Motives
by ShouldIGetOutandPush
Summary: Post-ROTJ AU story. Multi-Chapter. All does not go as planned for Han and Leia after the destruction of the Second Death Star.
1. Prologue Part One

_A/N: I know, I'm crazy. But I just couldn't get this story out of my head, so I'm gonna start publishing it. For those following my other epic: this one (hopefully) won't be as long and I WILL continue to finish the other one. Other than that. Enjoy._

* * *

**_Motives_**

_Get in. Acquire Target. Get out._

Prologue - Part One 

_Kashyyyk (9BBY)_

Night was falling on the forested planet of Kashyyyk. The twin blades of an Imperial Military chopter sliced through the dark silence. _woomf. woomf. woomf_. Twenty-six nineteen-year-olds sat shoulder to shoulder, their backs pressed firmly against the vibrating metal walls of the large shuttle. Calloused fingers gripped shiny new weapons. Wide eyes stared into the nothingness. Twenty-six hearts pounded to the rhythmical beat of the whirring blades. _woomf. woomf. woomf. _

"Pssst. Han."

"What?"

"You know what they say?"

"What?"

"Never send twenty-six Corellians on a job that shouldn't be done by one."

"Nobody says that, Watts."

"_Zero Squad, fallout."_

Stiff leather boots hit the decks. Starched, fresh uniforms creased and stretched. Twenty-six soldiers stood in two lines of thirteen. Han Solo checked the charge on his weapon, brushed his hand against his hip to feel the hilt of his vibroblade resting there. He shuffled forward as his comrades exited the low-flying craft two-by-two. The wind whipped a few stray hairs against his forehead and his ears. Two fingers pointed at him and then out to the nothingness beyond. He held his carbine weapon across his chest, stepped forward and jumped.

He heard his partner land next to him. "Ooomph."

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just overshot it." Clicks and hums echoed simultaneously in the night as the pair checked their weapons and location. "Where's our payload?"

A faint green light permeated the utter darkness. Han looked down to the small device on his wrist. "Straight ahead, two clicks."

They walked ahead as they had been trained to do: on the tips of their toes, crouched down low, eyes alert and fingers on triggers. "You think they could've dropped us off any further away?"

In the distance, Han could hear the chopter's blade. _woomf. woomf. woomf._ "Probably."

The two reached a large hut and took cover against the outer wall: pressing their backs against the building, performing last minute checks on their weaponry, adjusting their night vision sensors and mentally reviewing their orders. _Get in. Acquire target. Get out._

Han raised his hand. A closed fist, a pointed finger, a deliberate nod of the head.

Watts nodded back and just before Han turned away, Watts whispered, "Hey?"

"What?"

"Did you see Legs before we left?"

Han shook his head.

Watts waited a moment and then whispered, "K'rata." It was Corellian for 'next time' or 'later', more than a goodbye, a promise, an indication of meeting again.

"K'rata," Han replied.

The pair looked down at their wrist devices, simultaneously depressing a small button on each. Two faint beeps emitted in return. The two boys then headed their separate ways.

The night air was cool against Han's face and the breeze rustled gently through the heavily foliaged trees surrounding the small village. There were few lights. Han slinked in and out of the shadows, his black uniform making him appear wraith like. He reached the back door, rested his back to the wall again and clicked once on his wrist unit. Two clicks immediately answered him back.

Han pushed himself away from the wall and turned to face the unassuming door. He reared back onto his left leg, just as he had been trained and envisioned his right foot making contact, pushing forward and splintering the ancient wood. He reared back, held his breath, raised his leg, and then - he stopped. He took a step forward, held out his hand and checked the handle. It was open.

The door squeaked as it swung away from him. Han glided in. There was a bowl of fruit on a large table and a climbing vine in a clay pot on the windowsill above the sink. Marks of wear along the table indicated that at least four Wookiees ate their meals here. Their payload was only supposed to be three. Could be a routine visitor. Could be trouble. Han made a mental note and moved on.

"Clear!" Watts' low voice echoed down the wooden hallway, bouncing off the bare walls, the mud-caked ceiling and the floor.

Get in. Acquire target. Get out.

Han glided across the house as he had been trained. Crouching against furniture and walls for cover. Yelling out in a whisper of 'clear' as he surveyed each room. His muscles trembled with adrenaline, his blood pounded in his ears. He and Watts echoed each other as the mission wore on. "Clear!" "Clear!" "Clear!"

There were no other sounds. The Wookiees, if they were home, were as silent as the soldiers. Until-

"I got one!" Watts' voice came barreling down the hallway, no longer a whisper. "Here!"

Han turned toward the voice but then stopped. He cocked his head to the side, listening.

Get in. Acquire target. Get out.

Turning away from the direction of Watts' cry, Han doubled back into a small room that he had yet to clear. He pressed his back against the wall and reached his hand out to open the door. Down the hallway he heard the sound of furniture scraping against flooring, of objects being toppled over. He heard Watts' taser ignite and his friend's voice say, "Stand down by order of the Emperor!"

Han turned and entered the room. His eyes scanned the four walls in front of him. A bed, a window, a side table askew. A small toy on the window ledge. A rug curled up on one end. Someone had moved through there in a hurry.

"Holy hells. Solo?!"

Han's wrist mechanism tingled and clicked and the walls of the hut shook.

"What the?! Ooomph!"

Han stepped further into the room, glancing behind the opened door. He held his blaster at the ready. Taking his foot, using the shiny tip of his boot, he pushed the curled up rug back even further. The outline was faint. Almost impossible to detect. But underneath the woven material, he saw a trap door.

"Stand down, godsdamnit!" Han heard his partner's taser whine from overheating and then all of the commotion was drowned out by the sound of an outraged roar.

Han bent down; the sound of his heart pounding drowning out almost everything. With his blaster pointed at the floor, he lifted the small hatch and shone his muzzle-mounted light down the dark opening. A low, warning growl wafted up from down below and Han could see the flash of at least two sets of eyes, with a flicker that might've been a third. He heard a growl coming from behind him and the floor creaked as someone approached. Han's gaze lifted, landing first on the window ledge across the room from him and the toy that sat there. Han held still. It was one of those instances that stretch across a lifetime. Frozen. Silent. Defining.

Get in. Acquire target. Get out.

Han dropped the lid down on the trap door and stood slowly, just as he had been trained, turning around with his blaster pointed away and his other empty hand held out with his fingers spread apart. There was a gigantic Wookiee towering in the doorway, his chest heaving from exertion and panic. His dark eyes wild. The Wookiee glanced at the hole in the floor and then up to Han and stayed there, steady. Alert. Menacing.

"He's loose!" Watts yelled from down the hallway. "Solo, watch out. He's loose."

"I see him," Han replied steadily.

Watts hobbled up the hallway toward them. "He flipping knocked me out." Watts stopped several paces behind the Wookiee, he was holding his shoulder and favoring his right leg. "The sonofabitch broke my arm. Shoot 'im already."

"That didn't exactly work out for you, did it?" Han replied calmly, his eyes never leaving the Wookiees.

"Don't get smart. Just shoot him!"

The Wookiee turned toward Watts and made as if to lunge at him. Han called out, "Whoa, no, no. Look here. Don't worry about him. Look at me. Worry about me."

The beast turned back toward Han, looked down toward the trap door and then heaved in a giant breath and roared one, long, blood-curdling howl.

"Shoot him! What the frap are you waiting for? For Emperor's sake!"

"Shut up, Sar. You're spooking him."

"Me? _I'm_ spooking him? Have you lost it, Slick? The thing like to rip my arm out of its socket!"

"After you told 'im all about the Emperor and everything? Imagine that." Han watched the large animal. "No," he said, bringing his hand around to aim his weapon at the Wookiee. "We're gonna have to figure something out here. And it's not gonna end with me shooting this Wookiee."

The Wookiee roared again and lunged toward Han but did not touch him.

"Shoot!" Watts yelled.

Han did not flinch even as the breath of the Wookiee blew his hair out of his face.

"What the hell? What are you doing?" Watts hissed, hobbling forward for a better view.

Han did not drop his gaze as he and the Wookiee stood eye-to-eye. "I'm negotiating," he replied.

"Negotiating what?! Shoot it!"

"No," Han said calmly. "We're gonna leave here. Me, you and this Wookiee and nobody's gonna get hurt."

"It's a little late for that."

"We came here for three of 'em, but all we found was this one. We're leaving here with him...or her. Just the one. _Alone_. Nobody else. Ain't that right?"

The Wookiee stared at Han with his dark, fathomless eyes. Han saw them flicker toward the hiding place and then back at him.

"That's right. Just you, and me and my partner there. Got me?"

"He doesn't even understand you," Watts whined. "Shavit, this hurts. C'mon, do something we're running out of daylight, here."

"It's night, Sar," Han replied calmly. "And he understands me perfectly. Don't you, big guy?"

* * *

_A/N Part 2: This story will be a post-ROTJ AU story. I will delve into a little of Han's background here in the prologue, but I don't intend on telling Han's whole backstory. With that being said, the prologue will be 4 parts, so there is more to come. Also, his backstory will be AU as well. So only the three REAL movies will be canon._


	2. Prologue Part Two

**_Motives_**

_"S-A-R-T-A-I-N, look me up." ~Watts Sartain_

Prologue Part 2

_Several weeks later at an Imperial Outpost on the borders of Kashyyyk (9BBY)_ …

"And so then the damn thing puts his hands on its head and let's Solo lead him right out of the house. No net, no stun cuffs, no nothing. It was like a godsdamn holovid, I tell you. Ain't that right, Solo?"

Watts' arm was in a sling, he had a broken shoulder blade and a pretty nasty gash healing on his hip. The other guys sitting around the lunch table looked over to Han for confirmation.

Han shrugged, looking down at his plate without comment.

"Aw, don't pay attention to him. He's sulking over a girl. Ole Slick ain't got time to talk about Wookiees."

"What are they gonna do with all these Wookiees anyway?"

"What did all these Wookiees _do_? That's a better question."

"I heard they were conspiring to overthrow the Emperor."

"From the treetops?"

"They're great hunters and warriors. It's possible."

"They hunt game and they've only been known to fight defensively. Anyone who believes that they're rounding up the Wookiees as conspirators is a fool."

"Have you seen how they-"

"That's enough chatter. Everybody fall out."

The Imperial Officer stood at the entrance of the small mess hall and eyed each soldier down as they brushed passed him to leave. "Solo, Sartain," the Officer said. "Report to Commodore Rutien's office, immediately."

Two untouched platters of food slid off into the receptacle.

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, sir."

The pair had not walked two steps before Watts began to speak. "What's Rutien want with us?"

"I don't know. Probably missed chewing my ass out since we graduated."

"You ever figure out what you did to piss that man off?"

"I was born, apparently," Han supplied.

"Yeah, you seemed to have pissed off a lot of people that day."

They walked together into the large antechamber of the Commodore's office suite. A young girl sat behind a large desk. "The Commodore will meet you in his conference room."

Watts immediately zoned in on her. "How'd you like to meet me in my quarters?"

She stopped what she was doing and leveled her gaze at him. "Don't you bunk with a hundred other men?"

Watts smiled, all white teeth and dimples. "Shy, are you? Your quarters, then?"

Han grabbed his friend by the arm. "C'mon, Sar. You're in enough trouble already."

Watts struggled but let Han lead him away as he called back to the young girl, "S-A-R-T-A-I-N, look me up."

Han pushed his friend into the small conference room and the pair each plopped down into the nearest chair that they could find.

"Well, I swear," Watts began, spreading his hands out on the table. "I didn't do anything this time."

Han did not reply.

Watts leaned forward. "What gives, Solo? You ain't said two words to me since I got back from Medical."

Han looked at his friend, a steady hard gaze.

"Is it Legs? Because, you know I-"

Han banged his hands against the table and stood. "It's not about Sasha, for Sith's sake," he replied.

"So? What then? What is it, Slick? What gives?"

Han ran his fingers through his hair and plopped back down into his seat. He ran his thumbnail across the grain of the table. "I did something, Sar. I just-"

"_Gentlemen_." A tall, lanky man entered the small room, his eyes trained down upon the datapad in his hands.

Han and Watts both greeted him with a "Commodore" as they straightened up in their chairs.

The man stood there for a second and looked down at the two young men. "Almost one full month of active duty before a report containing both of your names comes across my desk? I have to say that I'm impressed. I didn't expect you to last half this long."

"Don't ever let it be said that we do anything in halves," Watts replied.

The Commodore stared down at Sartain. "Truer words might not have ever been spoken," the man replied and then returned to his datapad.

Han watched the man as his long, bony fingers entered unseen data onto the grid. A female officer walked into the room behind Commodore Rutien. She was holding a small bag in her hands.

The Commodore did not acknowledge the arrival of the woman. "There's been a suspected outbreak of airborne coomb spores," he said, finally lifting his gaze from the datapad and looking down at Han and Watts. "Ensign Lazarus here will take your blood and test you for exposure."

"Coomb spores?" Watts repeated. "I didn't hear the quarantine alert and I just got out of Medical. When-"

"You will allow the Ensign to extract your blood and leave the commentary for the mess hall, Lieutenant." The Commodore shut down his datapad and held it against his chest. He looked toward the nurse and nodded his head for her to begin.

The nurse began to remove needles, bandages and vials out of her bag, arranging them on the table as she prepared.

Han watched everything, his face blank.

"What was the exposure perimeter?" Watts asked as the nurse rolled up his sleeve. "Was the entire base exposed? Why aren't you mask-?"

"_That_ is on a need to know basis, Lieutenant," the Commodore answered. "I suggest you keep your mouth shut and let Lazarus do her job."

Han watched as the blue blood from inside his friend's veins filled the vial with red, murky liquid. He felt his own blood drain from his face and a cool sheen of perspiration cover his skin.

"Afraid of needles, Solo?"

Han's eyes snapped up to look into the Commodore's. The man's face was smug and indignant. "Not exactly," Han replied. "But I usually prefer to keep my blood _inside_ my body whenever possible."

"Nurse," the Commodore said. "Make sure this one doesn't faint."

* * *

_Several Minutes Later_…

"This is bullshit," Watts mumbled as he rubbed his fingers over the bandage that now dressed his upper arm.

Han rubbed his own arm and silently rolled down his sleeve. The Commodore and the nurse had left them with orders to stay put.

Watts bolted up out of his chair and began to pace the room. "I'm tellin' ya," he whispered as he pointed at Han for emphasis, "something stinks in the garbage chute. There wasn't any _coomb spore_ outbreak. Something else is going on here."

"Watts, sit down and focus. We gotta figure out what we're gonna do."

"Whatdya mean, what we're gonna do? We're gonna sit here 'til they come back and tell us what we did. So then we can deny it."

"Just like old times," Han said flatly.

Watts stopped his pacing and looked at Han. "You were about to tell me something before. What was it?"

"Damnit, Watts." Han stood and walked across the room. "I did something. I think I mighta got us both in trouble."

"What? What's up?"

"I don't know," Han replied, looking around the room. "You know they probably have this place wired."

"_Probably?_ I'd bet my check on it."

"It doesn't matter. The whole coomb spore thing still doesn't make any sense."

"Maybe they need an excuse to get rid of us. Something to put in the letter home along with our dead bodies."

"I thought of that."

"Geesh, I was halfway kidding, now you're kinda scaring me."

"Whatever it is, I'm not gonna let you go down for it. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure of that."

"It's cool, Slick," Watts replied, sliding into an empty chair. "We're cool," he repeated and his expression sobered. "To tell you the truth, I'm ready to get the hells outta here. Body bag or no."

"I know what you mean."

The door opened. "Gentlemen."

It was the Commodore and as soon as he entered the room his eyes found Han Solo. Han stared back at him. There was a blood lust in the Commodore's eyes that could not be mistaken. Han swallowed and held his gaze.

"So what is it?" Watts asked. "What bullshit did your bullshit tests tell ya?"

The Commodore's eyes did not move. "Get outta here, Sartain."

Han shut his eyes. He knew.

"Screw you and the Emperor. I ain't going anywhere."

The Commodore moved swiftly. By the time Han's eyes had flown open the older man had Watts pinned against the wall by his neck. "I am so tired of you and your mouth, Sartain. You had everything handed to you on a silver platter and you have done your best to disgrace your family name and mar your legacy. You are a disappointment and if I wasn't so certain you wouldn't do it yourself someday, I'd take you down right here and now."

The Commodore held him for another moment and then pushed away from him and turned away. The door opened and the Commodore's assistant was standing there. "The security detail is here for Sartain. Admiral Orakzai is requesting an update."

"_Orakzai?_" Han asked, sitting up straighter.

"Thank you, Jilve," the Commodore replied. "Please have-" His words were cut off by a warbling alarm and flashing lights. "Holy hells, what now?"

"I wasn't informed of any drills today," Jilve supplied.

Rutien took one moment to look at both Han and Watts, his body hesitated as if torn in indecision, but then he turned and brushed by Jilve on the way out of the conference room, leaving Han and Watts behind.

Jilve surveyed the two of them and then, without a word, she followed the Commodore out and shut the door.

"We've gotta get the fierfek outta here," Watts whispered, pressing his ear against the door and trying to listen.

A calm, woman's voice was coming over the intercom. _"Security perimeter breech at the detention facility. All personnel: full alert. This is not a test. Security perimeter breech on…"_

"Something about the detention level," Watts said.

"The Wookiees."

Watts straightened up and looked around the room, as if he might find another door or a window that wasn't there before. "Maybe they don't like the room service," he mumbled absently.

"Look, Watts," Han said. "We don't have much time and we don't know what's going on. But I want out, either way. You heard Rutien, he wanted me, not you. I"ll go, you can stay and I'll...I'll understand."

Watts stared at Han. "Maybe we _were_ exposed to coomb spores, because now you're just talking crazy."

The sound of heavy artillery and gunfire somewhere in the distance burst through the silent room. "Holy shavit," Han said coming to his feet. "What in the hells going on out there?"

Watts opened the door just slightly. "Whatever it is, it's just what we needed." He looked back at Han. "She's gone."

Han hesitated only a moment before he said, "Let's go."


	3. Prologue Part Three

_**Motives**_

_"I'll take good care of her." ~Han Solo_

Prologue Part 3

_Imperial Outpost on the borders of Kashyyyk (9BBY)_ …

The pair made it through the labyrinth of hallways that was the commanding officer's building. Any personnel still left in the offices and corridors were either running away from or towards the commotion coming from outside and had paid little attention to the two soldiers walking purposefully towards the nearest exit.

When they swung the door open to reveal the main courtyard of the normally quiet compound, they found pandemonium. "It's a frapping warzone," Watts mumbled as they surveyed the burning buildings, soldiers diving for cover and AT-ST's stomping about firing haphazardly at anything large, brown and moving.

A large shell impacted near them, sending a spray of shrapnel and dirt. The pair ducked back into the metal building. "What do we do now?" Watts asked.

Han took a moment to process his thoughts. "Let's head for the motor pool. Any way you slice it, we're gonna need something to fly."

"We could hijack _The Moderator_, I know where the skyhook is for it."

"I was thinking something a little smaller than a Super Star Destroyer, Sar."

"Hey, you know what I always say," Watts answered as he followed Han out of the building and across the courtyard. "If you gonna go out, go out in a big way."

"You've never said that."

Watts stopped behind Han while they let a group of soldiers race by. "I think I'm gonna start sayin' it though," Watts said. "Whatdya think? Do you like it?"

Han looked back at him. "I like it."

* * *

By the time the pair reached the edge of the complex they were dodging both hostile and friendly fire. They stopped behind a small building near an entire group of dead Imperial soldiers. "Death by bowcaster," Watts murmured.

"Grab as many blasters as you can," Han said, taking blasters and vibroblades from the cold corpses and stuffing them into his waistband, his boots and his shirt.

"That's Vales," Watts whispered, lifting his chin toward a dead soldier a few feet away. Han stopped for a moment to look over toward the dead body. "I promised his mom we'd come back together," Watts said. "She makes the best tapani fudge."

"We probably won't ever go back to Corellia again," Han replied flatly, staring off into the distance past the dead boy's body and beyond.

"Hey, Slick," Watts said. "There's something you gotta know."

A few blaster bolts zinged passed their heads and they both ducked lower. "It'll have to wait," Han replied as he began to work his way around the building. There was a large trench and a buffer zone between them and the landing field. Several Wookiees were using the trench as a redoubt.

"It's about Legs," Watts continued and then corrected, "about Sasha."

Han scanned over the trench and toward the several starships off in the distance sitting idly on the field. "Not now, Sar." He spotted an overturned AT-ST just a few feet away. "We go there," he said, pointing at the AT-ST. "And then there," he added, pointing toward the first ship on the perimeter of the field.

Watts stuffed a large carbine into his belt loop and nodded his head. "Lead on."

They ran in a zig-zag pattern all the way to the overturned AT-ST and stopped only for a moment before they continued on across the buffer zone and to the open landing field. They ducked behind a large packing crate, both breathing heavy and on full alert.

Watts ventured a look behind them and then ducked back behind the crate. "One of those old transports'll be our best bet," Watts huffed.

"Yeah, if we can get to it," Han replied.

The landing field was far from deserted. Several people were scrambling onto the skyhooks and some were milling around the non-military transports that Watts was referring to.

Han looked back to where they had just run from. The Wookiees were giving the Imperials a helluva fight, but they were sorely outnumbered and soon the ones holed up in that trench would be surrounded. It would be a massacre. But in the distance he could make out swarms of Wookiees escaping off into the wilds of Kashyyyk. Into their homes.. Han shook his head. "This is only gonna make it worse."

"At least they fought," Watts said. "At least they didn't take it lying down."

Han watched as another Wookiee was taken down with blaster fire. "Let's go."

They traversed the busy landing field unnoticed. "That one there," Watts said, pointing to a large transport with its on-ramp down.

"It couldn't be that easy," Han mumbled, as he headed straight for the old ship.

They ran up the ramp with long strides and ran right into a crowd of panicked people.

"Everybody sit down and shut it." A deep voice boomed.

Han and Watts looked around. The small's ships main lounge area was full. All manner of people were huddled around and arguing. The man that had spoken was standing at the raised hallway that presumably led to the cockpit.

"Payment in advance, folks," the man said. "There's room enough for everyone with credits."

"This guy's a real gem," Watts whispered.

"He's got muscle," Han said, lifting his chin toward a large Trandoshan mingling among the passengers and collecting credit chits.

"Let's try another," Watts said.

"Didn't see any others with their ramps down," Han replied. "We don't have time to jack with security codes."

"Well, whatdya-"

"You! You left! I was hoping you would!"

A female voice cut Watts off and both men turned towards it. A young woman was looking up at them, relief painted across her features. She was wearing a uniform but it was disheveled and dirty and there were grease or mud smudges on her face. Neither one of them immediately recognized her, although she looked familiar.

She ran up to them, seemed to recognize their hesitation and smiled, saying, "S-A-R-T-A-I-N. Did you forget me already?"

Watts' face lit up and he pointed at her. "Jilve?"

She shook her head. "I was so hoping you would leave when I did. I sent the security detail away, you know?"

"No, I didn't."

"C'mon, we've gotta go," Han interrupted.

"Where're you going? This is the only transport leaving. You should stay here," Jilve replied.

"They're probably taking you to _The Moderator_," Han said. "The last place we need is to land on a Super Star Destroyer. We've gotta find our _own_ ship and get the blazes out of here."

"They've locked them all down," Jilve supplied. "Shut down the skyhook. I heard them give the last clearance order. This is the last ship that's going to get off the ground. That poor guy over there got himself shot because he made a fuss about leaving his ship behind."

Han looked over to a pale man lying half-unconscious on the deck. He had his hand splayed out on his stomach and his fingers were stained red with blood. Han looked back to Jilve. "You heard the last clearance order?" He asked.

"Yes, I relayed it to the pilot, actually. I think he's spiced out of his mind, I had to repeat it five times."

Han grabbed her by the shoulders. "What was the order?"

"What? Why?" She looked from Han to Watts.

"We're gonna have to find us our own ship," Watts said. "And we're gonna have to get passed that Star Destroyer. If we give the right codes, it just might buy us enough time."

"And if two ships give the same code, they might shoot us both out of the sky," Jilve replied. "Besides, you won't get a ship. I told you, they're all locked down. You should just stay here."

"I'm working on the ship," Han said. "Just, please, give us the codes."

Jilve hesitated, looking from Watts to Han and back. "Here," she said, taking Watts' hand and placing something into his palm. "That's the appropriate transponder signal for one light freighter off system. I didn't want to give it to that hopped up pilot until it was time."

"What about you?" Watts asked.

"I can talk our way _into_ a Star Destroyer better than you could talk your way out of one."

Watts' fingers curled around the small device. "What's your last name?"

"M-O-R-E-U," she said with a small that rivaled Watts'. "Look me up."

"I will. Thank you," Watts said.

"She wasn't a real nurse, you know. That woman that took your blood today," Jilve whispered, her eyes scanning the room for anyone that might be listening.

"What?" Watts asked.

"C'mon, we've gotta get outta here," Han said as he quickly thanked Jilve and rushed toward the dying pilot. He crouched down, placing his eyes level with the stranger. "You got a ship here?" He asked.

"D-Damn right," the man sputtered. "Damn Imps gonna im...pound it. Damn Wookiees mess-ssed everything up."

"Look," Han said. "We need a ship. Give us the codes and we'll take you wherever you want to go." Han motioned to Watts and they both moved to pick the old man up.

"No, no," the old man protested and coughed in pain. "I ain't...I ain't gonna make. The damn gig is up. I'll...I'll give you the codes. Damn good ship, she is. F-Faster than a Twi'lek dancer, that one."

"Gimme the codes. I'll take good care of her," Han replied.

The man looked at him evenly. "You look like you might," he said and then looked down at Han's uniform. "There's lots of surprises in her. Bring her to Lando on Belsavis, tell 'im I bit it and that she's...she's yours." The man coughed. "W-won't like it, so sh-sharpen up your Sabacc hand. L-Lando'd lose his m-mother over a hand of S-Sabacc."

"Alright," Han answered. "The codes?"

"In my pocket," the man coughed. "I...change 'em often. Too old to keep track."

Han fished around in the man's shirt pocket and produced a message wafer.

The man reached out with shaky hands and broke the pressured seal. Inside the wafer were several strings of code. "Treat her right," he whispered. "Like a g-good woman."

"You have my word," Han replied. The old man coughed a few short hacks and then stopped breathing.

"Alright, let's get that ramp up, Denza," the loud-mouthed captain yelled over to his co-pilot.

Han watched as the Trandoshan made his way toward the ramp to close it. He looked back to the old man, placed his hand over his eyes and closed them. Turning back to the entry ramp, Han yelled over to the Trandoshan, "Hey, you. Hold one minute. We've got orders to stay."


	4. Prologue Part Four

**_Motives_**

_"I can fly anything." ~Han Solo_

Prologue Part 4

_Imperial Outpost on the borders of Kashyyyk (9BBY)_ …

Han and Watts walked up to the landing pad indicated on the message wafer. "When the man said old he wasn't kidding," Watts observed.

"Let's just hope these codes work," Han said, stepping beneath the belly of the starship and accessing the control panel.

"This thing's probably got an ancient navigation system and the gods only know what version power core. Think you can fly it?"

As Watts finished speaking the ship made a noise that sounded cantankerous and the gangway popped open with a bang. "I can fly anything," Han said, as he folded the message wafer up into his pocket and made his way into the ship.

The pair made their way quickly through the rounded corridors of the saucer-shaped ship. Han slid into the pilot's seat and took one long second to scan the controls and get his bearings. "It's an old Rubicon, alright," he said, as he began flipping switches and further studying the large, intimidating console.

"I'm afraid I won't be much help," Watts replied, strapping himself into the co-pilot's seat and doing his best not to touch a thing.

"Told you not to sleep through flight sims."

"Funny thing is, I only crashed a few times."

"The newer models nearly fly themselves, but these," Han said, his voice filled with awe. "These babies were made for _real_ pilots. That guy must've been pretty good to fly her all alone."

"Well, let's hope you're as good as he was, because that other transport is lifting off. We should try to get out ahead of them if we can."

"Yeah, about that," Han said, looking out the viewport toward the other ship lifting off in the distance. "I was thinking about making a small detour."

"Do I even have to guess?"

Han turned his body to face Watts. "They had to have been a distraction to let the others escape. A suicide team."

"And you want to steal all their glory?"

"I put a few of them in there. I'd like a chance to take 'em out."

For a moment the two old friends just stared at each other. Han was determined. Watts was inspired. "Let's do it," he finally said. "It's not like we haven't caused enough trouble for one day."

Han smiled and then made the last preparations to lift the ship up on its thrusters. "Press that when I tell ya," he said, pointing at a large, well-worn button. "And hold that lever there and...just try to keep us level."

Han pulled back on one handle and pushed forward very slowly on another. "Now," he directed and Watts pushed the indicated button. The ship groaned and creaked and coughed steam as it lifted off of the humid soil of Kashyyyk and into the air. Just a few feet up and the large ship tilted, crashing down on the landing skids that had not yet been raised. Han's teeth slammed together and his head rattled. The ship's once docile command console screamed in alarms and lit up with reds, oranges and very few greens. "Hold her steady," Han yelled while pressing buttons and fighting with the control yoke.

"I'm trying," Watts replied, sweat beading on his forehead and his own teeth gnashed together in concentration. "She's fighting me like a Tarisian schoolgirl."

The ship lurched forward and then careened to the right, smashing into a small docked Imperial military vessel. "Shavit!" Han cursed as he overcompensated and tilted the ship sharply to the left nearly standing it on its end.

Fighting every instinct to yank back to the right and flip the entire ship the other way, Han maneuvered the yoke slowly back to the right and got the ship back to nearly level. "Alright," he said with a heavy breath. Then scanning the area around them he pointed, "over there," indicating the large trench where the Wookiees were. "We just have to make it a few hundred feet."

"Easy enough, look how well we've gone nowhere so far," Watts replied. "Let's just try not to land on top of them. Or scorch their fur off with our thrusters."

"Good plan."

The old freighter wobbled and meandered until it finally reached the backside of the Wookiee's makeshift bunker. Han set the ship down with another tooth-clattering jolt and was rewarded with a several more red blinking lights on the console and even louder beeping and honking alarms.

"I didn't think one ship could have this many alarms," Han grumbled as he pressed and depressed a medley of buttons trying to appease the angry console.

"What happened to: I can fly anything?" Watts asked, as he unbuckled his restraints.

"She's just gotta warm up to me," Han replied, silencing one very distinct sounding alarm and introducing two more.

"Yeah, that's just-" Watts began but was cut off by the sound of blaster fire grazing against the hull. "Incoming!" He yelled, turning around to look at where the enemy fire was coming from. "It's the damn Wookiees! They're firing at us!"

"Of course they are," Han replied, heading out of the cockpit and down the corridor of the ship. "They think we're Imperials."

Han lowered the boarding ramp and peeked out from inside of the ship. He was several yards from the hunkered down Wookiees and the sounds of blaster fire, war cries and bombs drowned everything else out. The besieged Wookiees had turned their attention back to the approaching Imperials, giving Han and Watts a short reprieve.

"Now what?" Watts asked.

"I don't know. I didn't think this far."

"We gotta let 'em know we're friendly."

Han looked down at both of them and then immediately began to remove his buttoned-down shirt. "These uniforms won't help," he said as he stripped down to his undershirt and Watts did the same.

They looked out again. A couple of AT-STs were approaching from the other side of the trench.

"Let's go take those walkers out with the turret guns. That oughta send a message."

Han looked over at the approaching machines. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

The pair scrambled to the turret bubbles and warmed up the guns. They made quick work of the two approaching AT-STs and by the time they made it back to the landing ramp a few Wookiees were breaking off and heading their way.

"Come on. Come on," Han waved them on and the uneasy Wookiees sprinted the rest of the way. As soon as the first few were up the ramp, the remainder of the group vacated the trench and ran towards them. Han and Watts provided cover fire with their carbines and six more Wookiees made it the ship and up the gangway.

"Woo hoo," Han yelled as he turned to the ship's control panel and started to close the ramp.

A large forceful shove came out of nowhere and Han was knocked back against the other wall.

"Whoa, easy now," Watts warned, turning his blaster from pointing out of the ship and onto the irate Wookiee standing between him and Han.

The Wookiee moaned and gestured wildly, pointing back toward the trenches.

"I think he wants to go back," Watts ventured.

"Yeah," Han answered, rubbing his shoulder where it had hit the padded wall. "For what?"

The Wookiee continued to hoot and wave his arms profusely as Han and Watts squinted their eyes to study the abandoned trench off in the distance.

"There's nothing," Watts dismissed, as blaster fire began to batter the ship once the cover fire had ceased.

"I don't know," Han mumbled. "I think-yeah, I see it. There's one alive out there."

The Wookiee barked and patted Han on the back enough to make his knees nearly buckle beneath him. "Alright, alright, big guy. We'll go back and get 'im."

"Are you crazy? The Imps are coming out of the woodwork now and you want to trot out there and drag back a half dead Wookiee?"

The Wookiee growled loudly at Watts and Han held him back. "Just cover us and we'll go."

Watts looked at Han and the Wookiee, studying them both for a moment. "No," he said. "You're better with a scope. You provide cover and I'll go with him."

The Wookiee didn't seem to care who went with him as he grabbed Watts by the arm and began to drag him down the gangway. An argument died on Han's lips as he watched the ground by Watts' feet churn up from blaster fire. "Gimme one minute, will ya?" He cried, as he turned around and made his way to the upper turret.

As soon as the ship's heavy artillery began firing, the Imperials fell back. Except for dodging the occasional sniper rifle blast, Watts and the Wookiee made it to the trench without incident. Han watched as the pair bent and appeared to start attempting to move an injured Wookiee. Another sniper shot landed dangerously close to the trio and all three of them ducked into the trench where Han couldn't see.

Han swung the turret around in the direction of the sniper. He adjusted his scope and trained his weapon on a small encampment on top of an outlying building. There was no movement, yet something told him his target was there. He lined up the sights and carefully squeezed the trigger. Almost instantaneously, a flash of impact lit up the top of the durasteel building and a small, black-suited figure slumped forward and fell.

"Yeah!" Han cheered as he swiveled his gun back to the redoubt only to find that an AT-ST had approached the trench while he had been taking down the sniper.

"Shavit," Han cursed as he set his sights on his new target.

The AT-ST rocked as it walked closer to the trench and Han's first shot missed. He lined it up again, the AT-ST swiveled its head toward Watts and the two Wookiees. Han squeezed the trigger. The AT-ST shot out a burst of blaster fire and Han watched in slow motion as it tore through the huddled group in the trench just as Han's shot made impact and the AT-ST fell to the ground.

Han's eyes were trained on the smoke-filled redoubt. "C'mon, c',mon," he whispered. "Somebody give me something."

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the haze cleared and Han saw one Wookiee waving its arm toward the ship.

Han jumped out of the turret and slid down the ladder. "Can anyone work a turret gun?" He yelled at the group of Wookiees.

Several Wookiees walked forward and Han directed them to the top and belly gun. "Why didn't I think of that before?" He mumbled as he ran toward the trench under the cover fire of the old ship.

The Wookiee became more and more animated as Han approached. When Han reached the muddy redoubt he dove for cover and squatted behind the small rampart. That was when he saw Watts splayed out at the bottom of the ditch. Next to him, another Wookiee barked and moaned in pain. Watts wasn't moving at all.

"Watts? Buddy?" Han called as he crouched down beside his friend. Watts' face was black with dirt and soot and at the sound of Han's voice his eyes opened, white and wide. "Watts!" The injured man reached a hand out and Han took it in his own. "Hang in there," Han ordered as he looked up and over towards the ship and then back down at his friend.

Watts' hand squeezed Han's. "I'm out, Slick," he choked out and coughed up blood as he spoke.

Han looked down and saw nothing but a bloody pulp and shrapnel where his friend's torso should be. "C'mon, Watts. Don't leave me."

Watts squeezed his hand around Han's and scrunched his eyelids down on the pain. "Hey, you know what they always say…," he grunted through clenched teeth.

"What's that, pal?"

"If you're gonna die, you might as well die trying."

Watt's eyes remained shut and Han felt his friend's hand go limp in his. The lines on his face relaxed and went smooth. He was gone. Han choked back on the tears threatening to come. "Nobody says that, Watts," he whispered for the last time.

A loud Wookiee roar broke the moment and Han looked up just in time to see the feet of an Imperial soldier right at the top of the trench and as his eyes traveled upward Han was met with a blaster rifle leveled right at his head. "That's about right," he said to the soldier as he watched the Imperial carefully place his finger on the trigger and begin to squeeze.

A blaster shot from somewhere behind the soldier tore through the back of his skull and ripped out his left cheek. Blood and bone splattered across Han's face as the would-be assassin's rifle went off into the dirt and the officer slumped onto the ground in front of him.

Stunned and at first unable to comprehend what had happened, Han stood there dumbfounded already expecting to be dead himself but not yet able to understand why he was not. A Wookiee shook Han's shoulder and gestured wildly for him to retreat with his wounded comrade as he pointed and gestured toward the ship. In a daze, Han looked back toward the Imperial camp and tried to discover where the blaster fire that had saved his life could've come from.

The area was riddled with fallen soldiers and smoldering AT-STs and at first Han did not see anything at all. And then his eyes landed on the small building where he and Watts had stopped for a moment and planned their escape route over the trench and toward the landing field. There, one lone officer stood with his blaster trained right on Han. For the second time in as many seconds, Han prepared himself to die drawing in a deep breath that he fully expected to be his last.

In that long, tense moment recognition flooded into Han. The man staring back at him was Commodore Rutien. The Commodore stood with his blaster trained on Han, his eyes hard and piercing, his stare a weapon of its own. And then, slowly, inexplicably, Rutien lowered his weapon.

Han stood transfixed, unable to comprehend what was going on. The Wookiee shook him again and a few stray blaster spatters shook him back awake. He took one last look back at the Commodore. The man stood there at full attention and watched as Han and the Wookiee loaded the wounded Wookiee on their shoulders and walked him back toward the ship.


	5. Chapter 1 - What are you doing here?

_**Motives**_

"_I fold. Game's over. Everybody out." ~Han Solo _

Chapter One - (_14 Years Later) _What are you doing here? 

_Planet Eriada, One Month after the destruction of the Second Death Star (5 ABY)_

"Your move, Antilles," Han Solo prodded as he glanced down at his hand.

"Hang your stripes up for a minute, huh, Solo?" Wedge answered gruffly. "I'm contemplating my hand."

A voice chimed in from the back of the crowd. "Contemplating your hand? Is that what they call it in the Rogues?"

Laughter broke out in the small, smoke-filled lounge of the _Millennium Falcon_.

Han Solo sat, his long, lanky body spread leisurely on the edge of the curved banquette. He had one leg crossed over the other, his left ankle resting on his right knee. He was out of uniform, in dark pants and a dark shirt. There was a large cigar held firmly between his teeth, its end smoldering faintly in the darkened lounge. A half-empty glass of brandy sat in front of him, tiny ice flakes melting lazily inside of it.

At the center of the holochess table, a small Sabacc randomizer began to whirr to life. The five card players glanced at it, each with a different expression.

"Shavit," Wedge cursed, slapping down three cards before the machine finished its cycle.

Two of the other players squirmed uncomfortably and Chewbacca growled. Han took a puff on his cigar.

"Solo's randomizer friggin' rotates too often." A voice observed.

"Yeah, same as your mother's bedroom door." Another answered.

There was more laughter.

Han glanced at the randomizer before looking back down at his hand. The conversations continued much in the same way. Women were at the center of most of the comments and mothers and sisters were not off-limits. Numerous voices having several different conversations floated through the air like craters in an asteroid field and like a splicer filtering through code, Han followed them all, interjecting when and where he saw fit. Calling bluffs and taking jabs, hitting his targets as quickly and precisely as he did with his trusty blaster.

Jenkins moved to set four cards down and then pulled them back. He scratched his head and took a few jibes from the crowd before he set the cards down and tapped the dispenser to request four more. The randomizer clicked and whirred around and the young pilot stared blankly at the cards he had just thrown away, looked down at his new hand with silent consternation and then cursed.

That really got the crowd going.

Han smiled around his cigar, taking the stump out of his mouth for a moment to give his jaw a break. He then set two cards down confidently and tapped the dispenser for two more. He placed the cards carefully into his hand, the wheels turning inside of his head, the credits in the pot already spent on some upgrade for his ship. The cheap brandy warm down low in his belly.

The din inside of the lounge came to an unusual lull. Han bit back down on his cigar.

The next voice that rose up above the noise said, "Hey, Solo. Your boss is here."

Han made no move, even as the faint chill of irritation crawled up his spine. The cigar stayed clenched between his teeth, his eyes remained trained on the cards in his hand and his mind remained with the game. Tilting his head back so his voice was directed somewhere towards the exit, he said, "Damnit, Madine, if you're here to ride my kriffin' jock get in line, we're in the middle of a card game here."

The lounge grew quieter. Han fought back on his flight instinct, his body and his expression giving nothing away. The day Crix Madine had him jumping up into a salute was the day he hung his blaster rig up and joined the Tarisian Army.

"Uh, Solo," the voice replied, different, tentative. Warning. "Wrong boss."

The hairs on the back of Han's neck stood on end and he lifted his eyes up slowly. He was preparing himself for any manner of trouble. Admiral Ackbar? Maybe. He could handle that. Mon Mothma? Dodonna? Hell, at least he knew it couldn't be Darth Vader or Boba Fett. What caught his attention first were the feet. Small feet, impossibly tiny. Definitely not Ackbar, or Madine. And then his eyes traveled up the rest of her body, _her_ because it was all curves and tight fighting textiles. Curves he recognized but still could not force his brain to surrender to the fact that she could be here, standing in front of him, one hand balled up into a fist and resting comfortably on one of those curvy hips. That was until his eyes reached the round brown orbs staring back at him, searing, with a hint of curiosity. And amusement.

Han blinked.

The randomizer whirred again, this time it was universally ignored.

Leia Organa, the owner and proprietor of the tiny feet and nice curves, lifted her chin toward the holochess table and said, "By all means, carry on."

The conversations began to ramp up again as she crossed her arms over her chest and smirked down at him. He had to mentally remind himself how to form thoughts into words and sounds, a swift mental kick in the back of his cerebral cortex. "Leia," he finally said, only he had forgotten about the cigar in his mouth and both her name and it came out in a mumble and then a yelp when the lit-end landed smartly in the middle of his lap. "Shavit," he cursed as he padded out the cinders. Perfect.

The lounge was a flood of laughter and smart comments but the cipher in Han's brain had packed up his bags and left town and all he could think about was the fact that he was in the middle of a ship full of men who hadn't seen any women for as long as he had.

And in the middle of all of that stood Leia.

He stood up and dropped the butt of his cigar into his drink. He took a step toward her, reached out his hand, curling it around her bicep possessively. "What are you doing here?" He seethed the words, his stare burning through her smug grin as he fought the urge to pull her closer to him. They were _known_ but never overt.

The voice that answered him was Wedge Antilles. "C'mon, Solo. We're in the middle of a card game here."

Han turned toward the table, his grip never wavering on Leia's upper arm as he powered down the randomizer and laid his cards on the table. "I fold. Game's over. Everybody out," he announced bluntly.

"Son-of-a," Jenkins sputtered. "I was just about to win."

A voice chimed in, "Yeah, just like every other night."

"What about the pot?" Another voice asked. "I've got half my week's wages in there."

"Take it," Han snapped. Ship upgrade? What ship? "Chewie, get everybody outta here."

Chewbacca stood from his spot at the table and roared, scattering most of the bystanders and gawkers to the exit. Wedge, Jenkins and a few of the others lingered back, picking up credit chips and stashing liquor bottles under their arms.

Han looked down at Leia. She was giving congenial nods and answering mundane questions as the soldiers all filed out. She turned slightly away from Han and he was forced to let her arm go. He watched her instead, trying to figure out why and how she was there. There were no words to describe how he felt at seeing her. Excitement and relief warred with extreme worry and concern.

"Hey, any news on the timing?" Wedge asked Leia.

"We're getting close," she replied. Gods he forgot how just that voice did things to him. "Trying to pull a few more friendlies into line."

"Rumors are that Corellia's on the table."

Leia nodded her head to the side. "We're not counting on them," she answered evasively.

"Either way," Wedge replied with a shrug. "The guys are getting restless. We better find something to shoot at soon or there may be a mutiny."

"Don't worry," Leia answered, somewhat wistfully. "There'll always be something to shoot at."

"Yeah," Wedge replied and then with a slight bow of his head he said, "Princess," before he turned and headed toward the exit adding, "See ya later, Solo."

As the room emptied out it was barely recognizable. It looked as if a parade of garbage trucks had added the _Falcon's_ lounge to their route. Chewie came out of the galley and moaned plaintively at Han.

"I know. Thanks, buddy," Han answered as Chewie walked across the lounge and hooted animatedly at Leia.

"I don't know, Chewie," she answered him. "I often ask myself that exact same question."

The Wookiee left with an amused grunt.

The pair now left alone in the lounge stood looking at each other as Chewbacca's large feet padded away down the on-ramp. They listened as the ramp closed with a clunk and the alarm chirped.

Leai began walking slowly around the room, hands clasped behind her back, Han's eyes tracking her as she studied every discarded ration bar, brandy bottle and bag of chupa chips strewn all around. "Smoking cigars, gambling and drinking." She observed and then turning toward him she asked, "Where's the dancing girls, I wonder?"

"You just missed 'em."

"And what was it you were saying on the comm to me earlier today?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, that's right. Something along the lines of how bored you were and how there was nothing to do."

Not answering his question. Not good. He ignored her comments. "_Leia_."

"You didn't have to make everyone leave because of me," she said.

"What're you doing here?" He pressed the question again, because above everything else stood his concern for her.

She didn't answer him. They just stood across from each other in the lounge, two people who did not have a lot of practice with reunions. Especially him, the last time they met as lovers reunited he was half-unconscious and blinded. Little good did his consciousness or his eyesight do him now, however, because he was just standing there studying her openly and as intently as a hyperspace algorithm but she was all just…circles and dashes.

"I just wanted to see you," she finally whispered.

It wasn't the words more than her tone that got the message across: all insecurity and confusion. What if he hadn't left her as contentedly tucked away on _Home One _as he had thought? Her place on the High Council had never been the same since she had left to rescue him, a fact that haunted Han daily. And news of her heritage had not left her in the best of shape. In the old days, she used to bury herself in her work to hide from it all but lately she had found that peace buried in the crook of his arm. She fit nicely there, like a thermocouple in its housing. He wasn't sure what to think of that. What did it mean for them, that she might be spinning out in Zero-G with only him as her tether and he had no idea what he was doing?

"I haven't changed much," he replied, walking towards her and placing his hands on her upper arms. "Still as ugly as ever."

She looked up into his eyes. "I missed you."

Well, hey, that tone was much more pleasant, full of ache and promises. All thoughts began to move southward, even as Han struggled to keep the light on upstairs. But they were still there, at that point in their relationship where every second alone was an opportunity to uncover and discover new territory. Why talk when talking naked was so much better? He was halfway down that path with her, holding hands and skipping along happily, when the only guy left upstairs flicked the lights on and off, reminding him. "You shouldn't be here," he whispered half-heartedly.

"But I am," she answered him and her words were joined by the distinctive sound of a zipper being pulled down several notches.

Han recognized the sultry, predatory tone of her voice. He couldn't miss the way her eyes instantly lidded over with desire. This used to be his venue, he had been the one that could derail her with innuendo and melt her with just a few choice words. But she had skipped right over her sophomore and junior years in the seduction academy and his days of having the advantage in this arena had been short-lived. "Leia…," he breathed, still fighting to keep hold of the issue at hand. He was not to be denied. "Wha-"

She interrupted him when she pulled away slightly and proceeded to pull the zipper of her flight suit further down 'til it reached the curve and swell of her hips gaping open invitingly.

His gaze followed her hands and by the gods he couldn't for the life of him drag it back up again.

Beneath her suit, peeking out between the recently separated zippers was nothing but bare, white skin. He could see the valley of her breasts, the flat plane of her stomach and the dark promise of what lied below.

"Holy hells," he whispered, mouth suddenly dry, feeling dazed as if he had been concussed. His brain went backwards to that point in time when she stepped into that flight suit, nothing on, thinking only of him and flew across a potential war zone to stand in front of him, take her tiny hand and unzip that blessed zipper, all just because she missed him. Why was she here? Why did he care? He couldn't remember.

"That's more of the reaction I was looking for," she said smugly, stepping up toward him and trailing her hands up around his neck.

He licked his lips. The guy upstairs threw his hands up in the air and shut down the lights. And then time hitched forward at double speed.

His mouth descended on hers, devouring, crushing, wanting, needing. Her hands flew across his body, possessive and insistent. His shirt landed across the room. She was in his arms, he drew her up to him, her legs wrapping around his waist. They stumbled down the corridor and into his cabin, rushed. He stepped out of his pants somewhere along the way. He could've done without having to deal with her boots.

He was inside of her as soon as he had her naked and on his bunk, driving, piling into her as if it was a race. Her tongue was in his ear, overwhelming, arousing. Breathy words came out of her mouth, bold and erotic. Their bodies were slick with sweat, her skin red and chafed from his stubble. He stopped counting how many times she called for the goddess and when he came it was like a teenager: too soon, hard and shocking and so damn, frappin' good.


	6. Chapter 2

_**Motives**_

_"Sometimes I really think you forget who you're talking to." ~Princess Leia_

Chapter Two

_Temporary Alliance Base on the Planet Eriada (5 ABY)_

They were a tangle of naked arms and legs by the time they were done. He wrapped a blanket around them, a warm, cozy coverlet with the Alliance insignia on it. He loved that she pretended not to notice the numerous toiletries and sundries that so plainly belonged to the Alliance and that he had no business having.

He pulled her closer to him, into that crook in his arm where she fit like a missing piece of him. He kissed her on the top of the head. Sometimes she, too still felt like an ill-gotten piece of Alliance property that he was not supposed to have, that he had stolen right from under their noses.

She turned her body into his, wrapping an arm around his chest and stretching up to kiss him on the lips. "I wanted to surprise you," she whispered.

"Done," he replied, pushing a stray hair back behind her ear.

He let his finger continuing traveling along the line of her neck, down her arm and over her hip. He had spent hours studying, discovering and memorizing her body. One night alone had been spent cataloging and naming every freckle he could find and then plotting hyperspace jumps from each with the tips of his fingers as Leia squirmed and wiggled beneath his touch.

He turned, pushing her back down into the mattress, bent down and kissed her again, a bruising and devouring kiss. When he pulled his head away he kept her pinned down beneath him. "Now are you going to tell me why you're here?"

"I came back with Jenkins' X-wing," she said.

"Yeah, I figured that out already."

"You did? When?"

"Somewhere between 'oh gods' and 'don't stop'. I can't exactly be sure where."

She tried to force a frown as she playfully slapped his chest.

"How'd that go over?" He asked, imagining the expression on Mon Mothma's face. "You leaving?" He didn't say again.

Leia shrugged, but her expression gave it all away. If she kept thumbing her noses up at the High Council, she just might end up like him. Or like he had been. When had he become more respectable than her?

"They needed someone to fly the X-Wing back," she said.

He raised his eyebrows at her and leaned back onto his side.

"Don't look so shocked. You're not the only good pilot around here."

"How'd you manage securing that duty?"

"It helps to have a brother who's the Commander of the Rogues."

He ran his hand up her thigh and rested it on her hip, rubbing his thumbs along her pelvic bone. "This attack on Coruscant might be the craziest thing we've done yet. And we've done some crazy things."

"Are you worried?"

"I don't worry. I just prepare for the worst and go in guns blazing."

"I worry," she whispered.

"Hey." He drew his hand up to her face and cupped her cheek. "You should know by now that I'm not that easy to get rid of."

She did not look convinced.

"Look, their troops are scattered. They have no direction. What's left fighting on Capital City is nothing more than local security forces who'll change their uniform and start pointing their blasters in the opposite direction as soon as someone tells them to."

"Sometimes I really think you forget who you're talking to."

Han sighed. Maybe sometimes he did forget how much she knew, or at least found a comfort in pretending, pretending that he could soothe her with a few words and a smile. There wasn't really anything he could say. They were about to try and take a planet. It was the first thing listed in any military navy's guide on what not to do. But Han had made a career out of doing the impossible. He smiled at her. "Don't worry. By this time next week you'll be sitting in an office somewhere on Coruscant with a terrific view and a horrible secretary."

His words did not have the desired effect on her. He watched her intently as some flicker of emotion flashed across her face. "I want to be with you," she said, her eyes gazing down at his chest instead of into his eyes.

"Hey," he said, taking his finger and lifting her chin so that she looked up at him. "I want that, too. And we'll have it. We've never been this close before. Everything you wanted is right around this corner."

"I don't know what I want anymore."

He was only a little surprised by this comment. Ever since Endor, ever since Vader, Leia had been a little lost. For as long as he'd known her she had been so focused, so driven. And now, so near the end, it was like she had found out that she was in the wrong race. He thought back to how he had felt when he first realized that the Imperial Navy wasn't all that he had hoped and dreamed it would be. It was no easy thing, having your dreams fall short. But her situation was different. Or was it?

"I want to stay here with you," she said again and this time he caught her exact meaning.

"During the raid?" He asked, clarifying.

"You could use a gunner."

He was unable to formulate a reply. His mind reeling with all the reasons this was a bad idea.

"You know I'm a good shot."

"No." The word came out before he even thought about saying it.

She widened her eyes at him. "_No_?"

Propping herself up on an elbow, she leveled her gaze at him and gave him that look. The look that said he really didn't know who he was talking to. The old Han would've jumped at this bait. But she wasn't the only one that had been learning new tricks. "Don't gimme that, Leia. It's not that I don't want you here, you know that."

"So, what? You're gonna send me back to _Home One_ to do nothing, when I could be serving a purpose here on the _Falcon_?"

"You've served your purpose, I'll-"

"_What?_"

Immediately he knew that he had said something wrong, although he couldn't quite figure out just what. Leia scooting out from within his embrace to climb out the back of the bunk confirmed his assessment and upgraded the threat level several degrees.

He mentally rewound the conversation in his head. _Served your purpose_. Holy Hells. "What? Honey, c'mon. That's not what I meant." He turned over and rolled out the bunk himself, grabbing his boxers and sliding them on as he followed her to the 'fresher. "Leia…"

"Of all the bantha head things you've ever said," she was saying as she was wrapping a towel around her, "and believe me there's been no shortage of them. _That_ has got to be the most degrading thing you've ever said to me."

He stood at the doorway, resting his hand against the frame. "That's not what I meant. I meant that, you know, we saw each other and that you…boosted my morale."

"_Seriously_?" She replied, her jaw dropping open. "Do you think you're helping yourself, here?"

He opened his mouth to respond as Leia's hand moved in the corner of his eye and the 'fresher door slid shut on him.

"Leia."

"Leave me alone, Han," the voice came through the 'fresher door and Han knew that it wasn't just the thin layer of durasteel that made it sound so small and exhausted.

He thumped his forehead down against the 'fresher door. The two of them had barely had any time alone since he had gotten out of carbonite. And although they hoped the battle over Coruscant would be brief and decisive, they both wanted to be together now - not tomorrow or next week but now. It had been difficult for him to leave her when he had been deployed and now he was realizing that he had perhaps underestimated how difficult it had been for her when he left.

He lifted his head but before he could say anything else, the 'fresher door slid back open and she was stepping towards him, her finger stabbing at his chest. "Just who do you think I am? I wasn't working tables at a sky bar when we met, I was fighting this war and I'm not going to stop doing that just because we're sleeping together."

He had hoped their relationship would've been categorized as more than 'sleeping together', but thought that this was no time to argue semantics with Princess Leia. He held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, I know that. I'm sorry."

She leaned against the door frame and crossed her arms. To most it would've looked like the conversation was over, her body language and the disgusted expression on her face enough to cause anyone to turn tail and run. But to someone who knew her, to someone who loved her, Han knew that silence from Leia was always an invitation to continue and that if she wasn't yelling at you or running away than you were probably doing something right.

He took a step towards her. "Forget everything I just said, it all came out wrong. It's just that…now that the war's over, I thought you would be getting off of the front line."

"Look around, Han. The war isn't over yet. When this freighter is hauling spice again _then_ maybe I'll be sitting behind a desk."

He pulled her to him, cautiously assertive and she yielded. "I don't ever plan to haul spice again."

Her head nestled against his chest, her arms finding their way around his waist. "Well, I don't think I'll ever just sit behind a desk."

He rested his chin on the top of her head. "So, what are we going to do with each other?"

She pulled away from him. It looked as if he had said something utterly wrong again, or perhaps something utterly right, like he had finally stumbled upon the real reason that she was here. "That's a really good question, flyboy," she said. "Got any really good answers?"

Han opened his mouth but nothing came out. He would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about that. A princess and guy like him. Just what would they do with each other once this war was finally over? Maybe that's why he had never really fully let himself believe that the Alliance would ever win. As long as the war was on, he and Leia had found a place together. After that… He looked down at his feet and took a deep breath. "I don't know. I guess…"

"Well," she said as she straightened up and walked past him into the bunk room. "Let's not pretend that you haven't thought about this."

He walked towards her. "What do you want me to say? I don't see myself docking the _Falcon_ somewhere and staying turfside. And I just can't see the Princess of Alderaan signing on to be a deck hand on some stock light freighter." He was standing in front of her now and she opened her mouth wide as if to protest, but he grabbed her by the arms, effectively cutting her off. "But with all that being said, there's nothing I want more than to be with you for the rest of my life and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen." She was still standing there, mouth hanging open, but this time no words were threatening to come out. Han added, "If that's what you want."

Her mouth closed into a smile and her eyes softened and became instantly glossy. "That's what I want more than anything," she choked out. "And I'd be the first in line to become a deck hand if that's what it took."

He placed his hand on her cheek and said, "And I'd run for office if I had to."

"As a scoundrel you would probably make a pretty decent politician."

"And as a Princess you'd probably make a pretty lousy deckhand." She looked up at him, eyes glassy, her expression mollified. He mentally let a deep breath out. Success. He drew her closer, enveloping her small body in his arms. "What am I going to do with you?" He asked as he squeezed her tighter.

She answered quickly with a contented sigh, "Anything you want."


	7. Chapter 3 - The Battle of Coruscant

**_Motives_**

"_What is it that you want me to do?" ~ Princess Leia_

Chapter Three

_The Battle for Coruscant (5 ABY)_

The _Millennium Falcon _tore into the docking bay of _Home One_, its landing skids screeching against the tarmac. Her dull white hull showed more than the usual set of blaster scorches and blackened war wounds. Outside, deeper in space, in the skies and atmosphere, the Alliance to Restore the New Republic was fighting its last stand to overtake the Galactic Capital City world of Coruscant. The seat of power in the Galaxy, capturing this world was more than symbolic, it was essential to establishing their new regime.

The battle was not going well; the Rebels simply didn't have the fire power to make a quick and decisive victory. Years of chipping away at the Empire through small, key assaults and stealthy maneuvers did not translate to their first real outright offensive. Princess Leia, who had been flying with Han and Chewbacca on the _Millennium Falcon_, had been called away from the fighting and back to _Home One_ with an urgent message. Shortly after their hasty landing, the ramp of the old freighter clanked open and Leia came bounding out.

Mon Mothma stood alone on the hangar floor waiting for Leia.

"Mon," Leia greeted her as soon as she approached.

"The Corellians are here," Mon replied without returning the greeting.

"Thank the gods," Leia breathed. "Han thought he recognized a portion of their flotilla."

"They're here, but they haven't joined us."

"I don't understand."

"President Orakzai is asking to speak to you."

"_Me?_"

"Yes, now," Mon replied and tilting her head up towards a set of conference rooms overlooking the hangar bay, she added, "He's up there waiting for you now. He can see us, so be mindful of your body language."

Leia fought the urge to glance up at the transparisteel windows looming above them. "I should change," she said, remembering that her current attire could best be described as fighter pilot casual.

"There's no time," Mon replied, grabbing Leia's arm and beginning to guide her toward the lifts. "Leia, I don't have to tell you how desperate we are right now. Things are not going well, you know that, you've been out there. We _need_ Corellia. They not only have their flotilla but they have assets on the ground that could prove immensely useful."

Leia was thrown by the desperation in Mon's tone. "I'm not sure what I can do to convince them."

The two women entered the lift and Mon turned to Leia, grabbing her at the arms – an intimate, familiar gesture that was not in character for the Leader of the Alliance. "Do whatever you have to. I don't know what it is he wants with you, but Leia this it. This is what your father died for, what Alderaan was lost for, what my son... We _must_ take Coruscant or it will all have been for nothing."

Leia stood dumbfounded for a moment. She had so many questions. What were the parameters of any potential alliance with the Corellians? Who had met with them already? What had already been discussed? Just what would she be allowed to agree to? But all of that fell into oblivion as the lift doors opened revealing a hallway full of people, some familiar and some strange. Mon led Leia through the crowd to a conference room door.

"You will not be disturbed," Mon said, as she opened the door, allowed Leia to walk in and shut the door behind her.

A man stood at the far side of the room, his hands behind his back and his gaze looking down to the hangar floor where Leia had just come from. He was a large man, both tall and thick. He had dark hair and a crisp, tailored suit that seemed out of place on a military vessel being more suited for a ball or wedding. But he _had_ been military. Leia remembered his name but she could not recall any details about him. Only that he had been a successful strategist and had won the election for President of the Corellian System by a landslide.

"President Orakzai?" Leia asked.

"Princess Leia," he replied, saying her name in way that made Leia uncomfortable.

"What can the New Republic do to secure Corellia's alliance, President Orakzai?"

He turned to look at her. "Wars are wars, Princess. Until they become personal and then they become tragedies."

"I personally would like to see this current tragedy put to a decisive end."

"Yes," the President replied and then spun away from Leia and looked out the viewport once again. He began to speak with his back to Leia, "What if I told you that you alone had the power to deliver Corellia to the New Republic?"

"I would say if that were true, her flotilla would already be here."

The President chuckled and turned around to face her. "You are a very smart woman, as I have heard. I hope the rest of this conversation will not be too difficult for you."

Leia swallowed and wondered if it could be about Darth Vader. It seemed impossible given the limited number of people that knew. "I'm not as delicate as I look, President," she replied with a lift of her chin.

He studied her, seeming amused. "You're in a relationship with one of Corellia's sons."

The statement threw her for a loop. Was this about Han?

"No need to be alarmed and there really is no need to answer. I know my information is solid."

"I don't see how that holds any relevance-"

"_Personal_ matters hold the most relevance. It's the same reason the Emperor chose to destroy Alderaan instead of Duro or some other planet. Am I correct?"

Leia ignored the question. "Why does my current relationship matter to Corellia?"

"_Corellia?_ To Corellia it matters nothing at all. It's to _me_ that it matters and I have the power to deliver Corellia to the New Republic and you have the power to deliver Han Solo to me. So you see, this meeting between you and I will accomplish everything that could not be done earlier by a room full of blowhards and self-absorbed idiots."

Leia squared her shoulders. "Whatever charges General Solo is facing-"

"_Personal_, Princess," the President interrupted. "This isn't about desertion or back taxes, I can assure you."

Leia swallowed. Personal vendettas were always far more dangerous than legal ones. She remembered now that Han had served under Orakzai during his short stint in the Imperial Navy. What could he have done?

"I don't wish to harm him," the General spoke into her silence.

"What is it that you want from him? What has he done to you?"

The man smiled patiently. "The war separated my daughter and General Solo. I have the power to now bring _that_ very war to an end. And if I do, then I should like General Solo to return home."

Leia narrowed her eyes at him. "I think that would be up to General Solo."

"You lost your family because of this war," Orakzai stated. "Would you not give _anything_ to have them back now that it's over?"

It isn't over, she thought but said nothing.

"The war divided my family. I want only want to bring them back together."

"General Solo can make his own decisions regarding his future. If he wishes to return to your daughter, I could not or would not stop him."

"Oh, I don't think you would have to stop him. Corellians in general can be very determined, strong-willed, stubborn, even. Especially when it comes to their loved ones."

Leia stared at him, still unable to comprehend or believe what he was asking of her.

"Yes, I'm sure that he is no longer in love with my daughter, if he ever had been. But there is much more to consider than that."

"As in?"

"As in," the General mimicked her. "As in, my daughter has a child. General Solo is a father. I'm afraid that fact has been cruelly hidden from him, a situation I wish to remedy as soon as possible."

The blood drained from Leia's face. "I'm sorry, what is your daughter's name?"

"Sasha Baies, she used her mother's surname growing up…as a security precaution."

Sasha. Han had spoken of her.

The man read the look on Leia's face. "So he has told you about her. That should be proof enough that she meant a great deal to him."

"They were very young. And she left him."

"Yes, that is true, Princess. But there is more to that story, more than even General Solo knows of."

Leia waited, staring at him feeling torn between incredulous shock and disbelieving anger.

The President sighed. "My daughter left Corellia at the height of the Imperial occupation. No one, including myself or General Solo understood why she had defected. General Solo left soon afterwards. Years later, as the war spread across the galaxy and left no place untouched by its devastating path, Sasha returned to Corellia." He stopped. "She returned…with a child. I cannot offer any excuse for what my daughter did."

Leia only looked at him. Han was a father. He had a daughter.

"Do you wish to stand between a man and his daughter, Princess Leia?"

She pressed her lips together, unable to answer him. She couldn't think. It was all too much for her to absorb. She turned away from him and looked out the large window. The _Millennium Falcon_ sat in the distance. She stood staring at it.

The man approached her and whispered into her ear. "He will be returned to Corellia and accepted as family. His daughter will have a father. He will have a home. Isn't that something you wish someone could give back to you?"

"He could be a father to her without all this. Han would want to provide for his daughter and I wouldn't stop him."

"His loyalties would be divided," the man answered sharply. "I have a clear vision of what I want delivered to me in exchange for this alliance. I am sorry, but your feelings did not weigh into my consideration."

Leia turned away from the window to look at him. "And if he refuses?"

The man stiffened. "I'm afraid his acts as an Imperial Officer under Corellia will have to be answered for. He will serve a lengthy sentence in the worst Corellian prison I can send him to. If he escapes, with or without assistance, he will be pursued for the rest of his life. If he thought the _Hutts_ held a grudge, he will learn to look back on his days in carbonite as pleasant memories compared to the wrath that I will inflict upon him…and his friends."

Leia stared at him in disbelief. There were so many possibilities that had flitted through her mind as she prepared to take this meeting, but nothing close to this. How could she have seen this coming? It was too surreal.

"Ah," the President said, sliding back into his friendly tone. "So much riding on you, I do apologize. I offer you Galactic peace in exchange for _one_ man. I wonder, will you place your happiness above that of the entire galaxy?"

Leia turned away again, her eyes falling down upon the _Millennium Falcon _once again_._

"I wonder," the President said. "If this is anything like when you saw Alderaan for the last time, Princess? Have you ever wondered what would have happened if you had chosen differently then?"

"I cannot make him agree." Her voice was hard and cold.

"I believe you can, Princess. He will have a much better life. _You_ will have a much better life. How long do you think you will both be happy living the life of fugitives under Imperial rule?"

She did not turn to face him. She looked down at the _Falcon,_ thinking about the losing battle they had just left. She thought about the conversation she and Han had had about their future. She thought of Alderaan, her childhood, her father...she thought of everything and nothing all at the same time. She thought about the feel of Han's lips on hers, of her father's arm around her shoulders, her mother's whisper in her ear. She shut her eyes briefly before she turned to face the President. "What is it that you want me to do?"


	8. Chapter 4 - See ya on the other side

_**Motives**_

_"I'll see you on the other side." ~General Rieekan_

Chapter 4

_Main Hangar, _Home One – The Millennium Falcon _(5 ABY)_

Han was elbow deep in a reactor relay repair when Leia finally returned. "How'd it go?" He asked, speaking to her without looking away from his work.

"There've been some developments," she answered cryptically. Han's hands stilled and he carefully pulled away from the repair to grant her his full attention. "The Corellians are on the table."

"That's…surprising," he replied. "But they could mean the difference." He tried to read Leia's expression, her closed-in body language, the hardness behind her eyes. "What's the problem?"

"I won't be coming with you. When you go back out."

"Alright." Although he had fought for her not to fight on the front lines with him in the first place, now her exit surprised and hurt him. But he said nothing.

"And…," she started. "I've volunteered you to join the Corellian squad as our liaison. You'll report to the Corellian flagship as soon as possible."

He stood staring at her; sure that she understood what she sounded like to him. He held back on his urge to question and argue with her thinking that she must have her reasons. "Okay."

"You know our codes and our maneuvers. You're a Corellian." At that she blushed. "You'll be a valuable asset, able to pull them in line more quickly than most anybody else."

"Okay," he agreed again, still unable to decipher just what exactly was going on. It was as if the words she was saying did not match the tone of her voice or the expression on her face.

"Han," she said, her voice breaking. "This is a desperate situation. I need you to think about more than the Alliance, more than your rank…more than me."

"Alright," he said again, wiping his hands on a towel before stepping towards her. "What's going on? This is about more than lending me out to another outfit."

"The Corellians…they," she stopped.

"What?" He said, half-laughing. He couldn't imagine what negotiations had made Leia seem so spooked. "Hey, just spit it out, sweetheart. I'm Corellian, nothing they might've lobbied for would surprise me. What is it? Do they want me to make a few commercials? Swear my allegiance to the bloodstripes? What?"

"You're close," she said and she seemed to relax slightly. "They want to make sure they have a stake in the game, that they aren't just a big gun being wielded by Mon Mothma and Dodonna."

"That sounds about right. Considering I feel exactly the same."

"I know," she said and placed her hand on the side of his face. She looked up at him with a weariness in her eyes, it looked as if she thought she might not ever see him again. It was a normal look for a woman sending a soldier off to war, but it was not a normal look for her – Leia was no ordinary woman. "Everyone's counting on you to…be the hinge between the two of us. _I'm_ counting on you."

"C'mon, sweetheart." He took her hand from his face and held it between his own. "It's not that bad." He pulled at her hands and moved to embrace her but she stepped away.

"We can't afford any distractions right now." She glanced at the opened control panel where he had just been working. "You should probably get back to your repairs."

"The ship can wait," he replied, redoubling his efforts and drawing her into his arms.

For a long moment she stayed there, not quite melting against him as he was so used to now, she felt more like stone beneath his arms. He knew this final push was weighing heavily upon her. If they lost it here, everything would've been for nothing. But it seemed like it was even more than that. She sighed and rested her head against his chest. "I don't know about this anymore," she whispered.

He furrowed his eyebrows and stilled his hands which had been rubbing up and down her back. "You don't know about what?" He had a sinking feeling that she was talking about something more personal than this war.

"Han," she said, pulling away from him and he was shocked to see that she was crying. "I just need you to do this…for me."

"I am," he said, placing his hand on her cheek and wiping the tears away with his thumb. "I told you I would."

"Do everything," she said. "Do whatever they tell you to secure the Alliance. Do it for me. Promise."

"Okay," he answered desperately, confused. "I will, don't worry," he soothed as he drew her to him once again. This time she sunk against him, her stone exterior sliding away as he held her close.

* * *

Han spent the next several hours being debriefed by the Alliance strategy team, leaving Chewie to finish up the repairs on the _Falcon_. He was made to memorize secret codes; his ship was outfitted with a short range communications array that could not be detected. The status of the current Alliance fleet was laid bare to him shockingly revealing to Han just how desperate their situation really was. He was coached on what information he should give, to whom and when. He felt more like a double agent than an ambassador. Leia was oddly absent from any and all meetings during the entire affair. And when it was finally time for Han and Chewbacca to depart, it was General Rieekan that stood on the hangar floor waiting to see them off.

"Solo," Rieekan said, offering his hand.

Han shook the man's hand. Rieekan had always been a straight-shooter and Han liked and respected him. "General."

"This situation you're going into, I don't have to tell you how delicate it is."

"No, sir. You don't."

"The Corellians, well you know, they've been Imperial sympathizers through most of our time fighting this damn war. It doesn't take a military genius to figure out that this might be trap."

"A trap you're sending me right into."

Rieekan smiled, there had been no malice in Han's words. "There's no one I'd rather send as bait," Rieekan replied, smiling. "And I mean that in the most respectful way."

"Understood, General."

"Corellia wants a voice during the rebuilding of the New Republic. They want a seat at the table. A table _we_ fought for while they stood on the sidelines. But that's war. They're a dangerous ally, but a necessary one. Better Corellia at the table than no table at all."

"Why wouldn't they just turn on us? Take it all on their own?"

Rieekan looked off for a moment and then back to Han. "Alderaan changed a lot. The _people_ don't want the Empire back in control. _And_…as big as their fleet is, let's not kid ourselves, they need us as much as we need them."

"Well," Han said, looking out towards the large viewport overlooking the dark expanse of space. "I better get to it."

"Good luck, Solo," the General said with another handshake. "I'll see you on the other side."

"Yeah," Han replied absently. His eyes were now scanning the insides of the large frigate, wondering where Leia might be right at that moment and not being able to fight the feeling that she was somewhere close and that she was watching him. He looked back to Rieekan. "See ya on the other side."


	9. Chapter 5

_**Motives**_

_"That's Leia." ~Luke Skywalker_

Chapter 5

_Corellian Flagship, _The Interceptor_ (5 ABY)_

The _Millennium Falcon_ touched down on the unfamiliar tarmac in the hangar bay of the Corellian Flagship: _The Interceptor_. Han Solo took a moment to look around and absorb his surroundings. It had been a long time since he had seen so many Corellian military uniforms. Suddenly he began to reconsider his mission. Thousands of questions came to his mind that had not even bothered to surface during the endless debriefs with the Alliance. He shook it off, playing it off the hip had never bothered him before and he didn't aim for it to start now.

As he and Chewie exited the ship, they were greeted by a small crew of officers and they immediately began to work with Han on outfitting the _Falcon_ to receive Corellian military channels. He had expected more fanfare upon his arrival but no one higher ranking than a lieutenant came to greet him. Everyone seemed to have their orders and each set of people took care of whatever it was they had been sent to do. One crew detailed the Corellian tactical formations, another provided ciphers for the encrypted codes. Before Han knew it, several hours had gone by and the Corellian pilots were beginning to gather in the hangar bay preparing for the mission.

Han was double-checking that all the external access ports were sealed properly when he heard a voice speaking in the distance. The Admiral of the Corellian Fleet was addressing his men. Han wiped his hands off and walked over toward the edge of the crowd with Chewie following behind him.

"...Alliance expects us to join them as their subordinate," the admiral was saying. "We will show them that Corellia stands on its own. We will not be a pawn in the game of galactic dominance. Corellia will lead the way. The Alliance cannot take Coruscant without us and we will remind them of that today."

It was hardly the pep talk that Han was expecting. "Holy shavit," he mumbled. Rieekan had been right, it was a trap. "We've got to warn 'em," he whispered to Chewie as he spun around to head in the direction of his ship. That was when someone grabbed his elbow and held him there.

"Not so fast, General Solo."

The man holding his arm and speaking to him was a stranger, but he wore the stripes of a general.

Chewbacca growled.

"Tell your Wookiee to stand down," the man said. "I don't think even the infamous Han Solo can beat the odds he faces right now."

Han looked around the hangar bay. They were surrounded by Corellian troops. He felt his heart drop down into his belly. "Easy, Chewie. The man's got a point."

"Interesting," the man replied, letting Han's arm go. "Your file never indicated that you could be reasonable."

"It's what's not in the file that you'll have to worry about."

"I'm sure," the man answered. "Let's cut to the chase, shall we?"

"Sure, why not?"

"There are a few key points of negotiation that Corellia has yet to solidify with the Rebels. We intend to…_remind_ them of our wishes by holding back our troops today."

"You're planning on sending them out there with your flotilla behind them and then sit back and watch them get butchered?"

"Yes. The effect should play out rather quickly. I'm sure they'll see reason before the tide is completely turned."

"What is it that you want?"

"Corellia will not come to Coruscant as the lapdog of the New Republic. We will prove our worth. We will be brought in as a founding partner. We will have a voice."

"None of that matters to me. I'm not gonna sit back and watch my friends get slaughtered."

The general glanced off into the distance and then back at Han. "I'm sorry to hear that, General Solo. We were told that you would be cooperative."

Suddenly Leia's words came back to him. Could this have been what she was talking about? Did she know about the Corellian's plans? He couldn't make himself believe that it was true.

"Ah, yes. I can see you're torn," the general said. "We aren't expecting you to fire upon your comrades. Just hold back until we get what we want and _we_ give the order."

Han scoffed at him. "What does it matter what I do? Why am I even here? You have a whole godsdamn flotilla to play around with, why did you need me?"

"_Honestly?_" The general replied. "That's information that I have not been made privy to. All I know is that _your ship_," and he pointed at the _Millennium Falcon_, "is part and parcel of the bargain. You will stand beside us, or you and your friends will be taken down."

* * *

_Alliance Flagship, _Home One_ (5 ABY)_

Leia waited in the observation ring with the rest of the High Command. She stood in the back of the room, heart racing, mind reeling as the go ahead order was given. The battle display blossomed with tiny blips of green. The entire fleet poured out of the docking bays of every Alliance vessel and headed for the skies of Coruscant.

Behind them followed the Corellian Fleet, massive and impressive. As the first fighting engaged the room was drowned in pregnant silence. It was Carlist Rieekan that was the first to speak.

"The Corellians are…acting strangely," General Rieekan said.

"Are they firing on us?"

"No, they aren't firing at all."

"Change their designation as unknown."

Leia bit her lip, taking a few steps backwards to press her back against the wall.

"We've lost Unit One," Madine reported. "Damnit!"

Leia turned and took off to the communication center at a dead run. "Get me a secure channel to President Orazkai."

The startled communications officer looked to his commanding officer and after receiving a go-ahead nod, began to punch buttons, talking his way through a few levels of officers before he turned the comm over to the Princess.

"President. I thought we had…an understanding."

"_Indeed. Although your side of the bargain has not yet been delivered to my satisfaction."_

"Shots fired! The Corellians are engaging." A voice came from the other side of the room.

"Changing designation from unknown to enemy."

"Get me the Corellians on the line," Mon Mothma commanded.

Leia watched as Alliance ships flared out of existence from under Corellian fire. She spoke into the comm, "From where I'm standing, neither has yours."

"_We did not fire upon you, until you fired upon us."_

"You held your fleet! You kept your position ambiguous until you left us no choice."

"_I told you what I wanted and you have not delivered it."_

Leia depressed the mute button and cursed. The young comm officer blushed.

"_Ah, yes," _the President spoke into Leia's silence._ "It seems your fearless leader has now amended her deal."_

"Then call off your troops."

"_What about _your_ end of the bargain, Princess?"_

Leia looked at the battle display. The _Falcon_ remained designated as unknown but he was in formation with the Alliance. Han had switched sides. "Are you really going to let the fate of the galaxy ride on this?"

"_I don't know. That sounds more like a question for you."_

"What do you want me to do?"

"_I tire of repeating myself, Princess. I want him delivered to me, unequivocally and irrevocably. Figure it out."_

He closed the channel. Leia pressed her fingertips against her eye sockets, rubbing the throbbing pain that was growing within her skull.

"We've lost Rogue Six," someone announced.

"Unit Alpha is down."

Leia looked up, eyes hard, jaw set as she turned on her heel and left the communication station.

* * *

_Rogue Squadron Hangar Bay,_ Home One

Leia entered the hangar bay with an air of confidence. She walked directly to an X-wing that was being refueled and climbed into its cockpit.

"Hey!" A young officer called up to her. "What's going on? You're not authorized for that vessel."

"I got my clearance from Commander Skywalker, take it up with him."

"Commander Skywalker is in the middle of a battle. I don't think-"

"Do you know who I am…," she dressed the man up and down with her eyes, an old tactic her dad had taught her to set people at unease. Her eyes finally landing on his name tag, she continued, "Lieutenant Valard?"

"It's _Captain_ Valard. And yes, I'm aware of who you are, Princess."

She knew he was a Captain, that was something Han had taught her to get under someone's skin. "Every minute you stand here arguing with me will cost you another stripe off of that uniform, do you understand me?"

Leia eyed Carlist Rieekan exiting a turbolift and heading towards her. She plopped down into her seat and didn't even bother to listen to the Captain's reply.

She had her cockpit lowered and the X-wing up on its repulsors before Rieekan reached Captain Valard and began arguing animatedly with the man. Leia re-focused on her control panel, powered on the thrusters and shot out into the skies.

* * *

The Millennium Falcon_ during the Battle of Curscant (5ABY)_

"I don't know," Han moaned as he twisted his ship between a volley of _friendly_ fire.

Chewie growled and wurfled.

"Hey, I've been around a campfire or two where Wookiees haven't acted much better."

The Wookiee's inflection perked up in a question.

"I don't know, let's just fly around until somebody shoots at us and then we can figure out whose side we're on."

A laser blast shot past him and Han spun the _Falcon_ down in a corkscrew maneuver just in time to miss its twin.

Chewie roared and slammed a few switches on his console.

"I know! I know! But we're designated as an unknown on both sides! Can you tell who the hell's firing on us?"

There was a low growl.

Han's head snapped towards his co-pilot and looked out of his side of the viewport. "An X-wing? Are you sure?"

Right in front of his eyes two laser blast came from an X-wing with the distinct markings of the Rogue Squadron. Chewie bared his teeth and howled when they grazed the forward shields and dimmed the lighting in the cockpit.

Han jinked and juked, flipping the _Falcon_ around like a Corellian hot cake on the griddle. "I don't really feel like firing on Rogue Squadron, either. What the hell is wrong with this guy?"

Two more laser blasts on the _Falcon's_ belly finally convinced Han to fire back at the pursuing X-Wing. "Lock 'im in, Chewie."

The Wookiee's response echoed loudly throughout the cockpit.

"It's not like we have a choice! He's firing at us!"

Han spun the _Falcon_ around, evading another set of laser blasts and bringing the X-Wing into his sites.

"_Millennium_ _Falcon_, this is Rogue Leader!"

Han ignored the hail and fired off four shots at the X-Wing, two making contact with the S-Foils and spinning the star ship about until the pilot righted themselves.

"Han, it's Luke, come back."

Han twirled the _Falcon_ up and around, taking a direct hit to the rear shields but coming around on the X-wing once more. "Sorry, kid. I'm a little busy taking care of this flitnat that won't get off my tail. Look, I wasn't a party to this double cross, but I gotta shoot back when I'm fired at. It's a crazy little habit I've developed over the years."

Han leveled the _Falcon_ out and fumbled for a lock on the X-wing, its pilot juking and jinking and trying to shake him off. "Han, I understand. I just thought you might want to know."

"_What?_" Han answered through gritted teeth. The _Falcon's_ target lock beeped and Han flipped up the safety cover on his quad missiles.

Chewie growled in protest and Han barely heard Luke's response as he stated, "That's Leia."

Another howl from Chewie as the blood drained from Han's face. The targeting computer was screaming that it had a lock and Han's thumb hovered over the button - hesitating.

And that was all the time that she needed…


	10. Chapter 6

**_Motives_**

"_Yes, General Solo. She's yours." President Orakzai_

Chapter 6

The Millennium Falcon_ (5 ABY)_

"Chewie, put all power to the shields!" Han yelled as he struggled to coax his ship out of the tail spin Leia's shot had put them in.

Chewbacca growled and howled in return.

"I know! I know! She took out the main guns. She must've-" But then Han stopped. He didn't have any explanation for _why_ she had done what she had done.

What would possess Leia to shoot at them? His mind began to race through the scenario. She had had them at dead rights. If her shot was deliberate, which he was sure that it was, then she had intentionally taken out his guns instead of just damaging their shields or crippling their engines. Why? She wanted them out of the fight, but more than that…

"Turn us around," Han said, looking out of the viewport and onto the vast stage of the battle.

A questioning hoot came from his copilot.

"We've gotta get outta here. Without main guns we're sitting out here like Calamarian Carp in a barrel."

Chewbacca barked and pointed in the opposite direction.

"We're not going to _Home One_," Han replied. "I don't think Leia shot at us as a way to tell us to come back home."

There was a low, whining noise that came from Chewbacca, it was tentative and sad.

"I'll have to figure it out later, buddy," Han answered. "Right now let's just head back to _The Interceptor_." And then he mumbled, almost to himself, "I have a feeling the Corellians are somehow at the bottom of this."

* * *

The _Millennium Falcon_ limped back to the Corellian Flagship, _The Interceptor_. Han piloted his old freighter in muted silence. It might as well have been Han that Leia had fired that shot at, Han the man and not his ship because it was Han that felt damaged and concussed. He couldn't fathom what might have motivated her to do such a thing. Suddenly he began to dissect all of their recent interactions and conversations. She had known something back when she had sent him to join the Corellians and he kicked himself for not pressing her on it. But whatever it was…whatever it could be, what could possibly justify this behavior? She had shot at his ship!

He clenched his teeth together and fumed. There was nothing that could soothe his hurt and anger, no scenario that justified the means for this end. He felt that somehow she had chosen the Alliance over him, a long, deeply buried fear that scrambled happily up to the surface to slap him in the face. The thought confused and infuriated him. Why? What possible difference could all of this have made? What could she have gotten out of shooting his ship?

None of it made sense. He just knew that he must be missing some key part of the equation, some detail that would suddenly make it all become clear. Someone had gotten to Leia, somehow and they had forced her to behave in the way that she had. He curled his fingers around the control yoke of the _Falcon_ until his knuckles turned white. He took a deep breath. The closer his ship got to _The Interceptor_, the more he began to turn his anger outward away from Leia and toward everyone else. It was much easier that way. But it was hollow charade. Deep in his heart the blame lied squarely on one person alone, he just couldn't bring himself to openly admit it.

* * *

_The Corellian Flagship: _The Interceptor_ (5 ABY)_

Han and Chewbacca set the ship down in the large hangar bay. Unlike just a few hours ago when they had left it, the place was now quiet and nearly empty. Han sat staring out into that emptiness as he tried to get his thoughts in order.

Chewbacca moaned plaintively.

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Han replied.

The Wookiee got up from his chair and placed his paw on Han's shoulder. Han did not acknowledge the gesture. The contact, the strong, silent weightiness of the contact was causing raw emotions to bubble up to the surface unbidden. Chewie removed his paw, respecting Han's silence as he turned and left the cockpit, heading out to assess the damage. Han kept his eyes trained straight ahead. He was still trying to assess his own damage and for the first time in a long time, the well-being of his ship was not at the forefront of his mind. He tried to give Leia every benefit of every doubt but nothing, no scenario he could think of could explain away or excuse her actions. His anger was slowly turning into an unbearable hurt. Everything, the tentative future he had dared to dream about was now imploding before his eyes. A princess and a guy like him. How could he have been such a fool? He shook his head.

Across the tarmac a man was exiting a turbolift and heading towards the _Falcon_. Han stood, moving with the slow deliberateness of a dream. He looked down at the his empty pilot's chair as if it would never seem the same to him again. For most of his adult life he had sat at that chair and flew, sometimes away from everything but lately he had been flying towards something, something he had barely dared to let himself believe he could ever deserve. And here he was discovering that it all had been too good to be true. He reached down to tap his blaster in its holster, confirming that at least it was still there. And then he turned and headed for the exit.

* * *

Han stood at the bottom of the entrance ramp of the _Falcon_ and waited as the stranger approached. He appeared severely out-of-place on the naval ship. He was not military; at least he wasn't dressed in a uniform and there was a slightly feminine look about him. Chewbacca was already taking the cover off the main battery, or what Leia had left of the cover of the main battery, and the man made a giant semicircle around the front mandible of the ship, giving the working Wookiee a very wide berth.

"General Solo," the man said cheerily, holding his hand out from several paces away. "My name is Gharris Stanton, personal assistant to the President of the Associated Corellian Systems and it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Han shook the man's hand as he eyed him warily. "Uh-huh," he replied.

"We were in the war room and apprised of your current situation. I've been sent here to tell you that you've been allocated whatever resources necessary to repair your ship. No restrictions. We stand to serve."

"Uh-huh," Han said again. "What's the catch?"

The man looked genuinely shocked. "I don't know what you mean."

"No one gives anything away for nothing," Han replied and the truth of the words in light of recent circumstances stung him deep. "What does the Associated Systems of Corellia want in return for their generosity?"

"In return for our generosity? Well, oh my, that would totally contradict the use of the word, now wouldn't it? No, no, no. It is my understanding that we merely wish to repay the famous General Solo and his trusty ship, _The Millennium Falcon_ for returning home to aid Corellia in its finest hour."

"Were you asleep up there in that war room, Stanton? It hardly looked like mine or Corellia's finest hour out there."

"Oh," Stanton replied, blushing. "But the tides have certainly turned, General Solo. You probably don't realize but Coruscant is all but ours."

This information was enough to pique Han's interest beyond just wanting to get rid of this man and go back to rumanating about Leia. "What?"

Han's now sudden interest in the man's words made Stanton blush again. "Oh, well, of course, you might not know, but shortly after your, ah, attack the Corellians reconfirmed their alliance to the Rebels and joined the fight against the remaining Imperials."

"Shortly after my attack?" Han repeated. This had to be more than a coincidence. But it still left nothing clear. How could Leia shooting at him have brokered a deal with the Corellians? What would each party have gotten out of that? "And now you're here to tell me I can fix my ship all free of charge," Han asked.

"Why, yes, as I said-"

"Shut up," Han cut the man off as he bit down on his thumbnail. His brain spun with possible scenarios. Could the Corellians be behind all of this? Han looked down at Stanton. "And then what?"

"And then what, what, General Solo?"

"So, I fix up my ship and I can fly off wherever I please? No strings attached?"

"Well, yes, though we don't have all the supplies necessary to completely restore the _Millennium Falcon_ here on the _Interceptor_. The, uh...," Stanton stopped and looked the old ship over for a moment as if searching for the correct descriptive word. "_Classic_ freighter variety that she is, well, she's not at all exactly what you would call standard military. So we would have to escort you home...to Corellia. You see?"

Han dropped his hand down. "No, but I'm beginning to, I think." Was this some sort of propaganda campaign? Why else would they want the _Falcon_ to show up on Corellia? Or were they trying to lure him there to arrest him? He certainly had no shortage of warrants back on his home turf. Han looked down at the man standing in front of him, Stanton looked nervous as he patiently awaited Han's reply. "No, I think I'll pass, thank you," Han said, shaking his head. "Tell the president I'm not interested."

"Not interested? Oh my," Stanton replied, clearly flustered. "I don't think you fully understood the offer."

"And I don't think you fully understand Basic. I said, _no_. I even added thank you."

"Oh, well, this is surprising," Stanton said. "President Orakzai, , uh…he felt most assured that you would cooperate."

Orakzai was a name from deep in Han's past. He had been the Admiral in charge of the Kashyyyk operation when Han had defected. He had also been Han's girlfriend's father, although as far as Han knew, Orakzai never knew about the relationship. He must be looking to make an example out of Han, the man never did like him. "Is that it?" Han said, running his fingers through his hair. "Old Orakzai came forward with some trumped up charges of desertion and treason and thinks I'm gonna go in quietly because he had the Alliance shoot at me?" He couldn't believe that Leia had sold him out for so small a price, especially after everything she had done to help him out of that mess with Jabba. There still had to be more to it than all of this.

"I think I can honestly say that President Orakzai has no plans on arresting you."

In spite of everything, Han couldn't help himself but laugh. "You _think_ you can honestly say?"

"Well, you have to understand, I'm not always debriefed fully on the finer details of my assignments."

"It sounds like you're talking from bitter experience there, Stanton."

The man shrugged. "You have no idea."

"I'll tell you what," Han replied. "Because I'm sorta taking a liking to you. I'll forget this conversation ever happened and let you walk away from here without having to go through my Wookiee to do it."

Stanton turned around excitedly looking for Chewbacca, his eyes wide and terrified. "Please, Captain Solo," he begged.

"General."

"General Solo," Stanton corrected. "As I said, I am not aware of the details. I'm only here to see President Orakzai's wishes carried out."

"Well, I hope you're carrying a really big blaster under that ugly jacket of yours or I'm afraid you're gonna be disappointed. You see, I've got pressing matters elsewhere."

Gherris Stanton fumbled for and produced a small communicator out of his jacket pocket, looking severely wounded by Han's derogatory comment concerning his attire, enough so that he appeared to have forgotten about his fear of Wookiees. "Perhaps I should check and see if the President is able to meet with you now. He might be better able to explain."

Han folded his arms across his chest. "Perhaps."

* * *

Han was led into a large room with a gigantic viewport. There was a large man gazing out of the window, his back to Han. On the other side of the transparisteel several small fighters were entering and exiting hyperspace. Bright blips against the dark expanse of space. The man did not turn around at the sound of Han entering the room, nor did he react as Han was left there alone as the door slid shut behind him. Han paused a few seconds and then took a few steps toward the man before he stopped and waited.

"General Solo," the man said. "Please, come join me."

Han recognized the voice of his old Admiral, Orakzai. It was like meeting an old school teacher again, it made Han feel years younger and like he was about to get into trouble. He took the last few steps forward to stand beside the older man and joined him in looking out at the expansive view.

"You're witnessing the end of an era, Solo," Orakzai said. "Today we brought this war to an end. And in a way that left Corellia in the best position possible."

Han bristled. He wondered just what the Alliance had given away in exchange for the help from the Corellians. "Nothing like showing up late to the party and demanding the best seats in the house."

The President did not seemed fazed by Han's comment and he calmly replied, "The Alliance shouldn't have thrown a party when they couldn't afford to pay the bill. The truth is, they couldn't seal the deal without us and all we did was made sure we were sufficiently compensated."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself to help you sleep at night," Han replied. "It's no business of mine."

"You're right. And I didn't bring you here to talk business anyway. I understand you are reticent to return to Corellia."

"Not quite the way I'd describe my feelings on the matter, but okay, yeah, call me reticent. If that helps."

"Did you know that I won my election as President with barely a single vote cast against me?"

"No, I didn't. I was a little busy back then."

The President turned his gaze back at Han. "People wanted change; the Empire was falling out of favor. I began to redirect our troops, redeploy our soldiers. I saw the writing on the wall and I distanced myself from the Emperor…at least publicly."

Han shook his head. "You're a piece of work."

"You of all people should know that not everything is black and white, good and evil, right and wrong. I couldn't just walk away from the Imperials. And what then? Suffer the fate of Taris? Or, better yet, Alderaan? No one wants to make the unpopular decisions. No one really wants to know what goes on behind closed doors, but everyone wants to second guess the outcomes. Hindsight," the President seethed. "It's a politician's greatest enemy."

"So what is it?" Han asked. "You trying to get re-elected? Quit trying to sell me and just tell me what it is you're after and what you think you have on me that's gonna make one hell of difference."

Orakzai turned back toward the viewport. "Yes, I'm up for re-election and I want you to go back to Corellia. A _rebellious hero_ returned," he said, dragging his hand across the air as if his words were on a billboard. "You'll be the face of my new campaign. The proof I need to separate me from the Imperials once and for all. It's not all politics, Solo. I truly do want to embrace this opportunity to climb from beneath the Imperials' reign."

Han clenched his jaw. He wondered if Orakzai was the one that had gotten to Leia. He wondered what he had told her to make her do what she had done. He clenched his fists. "Okay, you've told me what you want. Now tell me why I care."

The president dropped his gaze down to the control panel in front of them. "Did I mention to you that I have a granddaughter, General Solo?"

"No," Han replied impatiently, not understanding the inappropriate turn in the conversation. "Congratulations."

"She's…oh," he looked up and directly at Han's face. "About fourteen years old now."

Han remained silent but a natural reflex made him swallow hard. Fourteen years. For some odd reason Han's entire mind was suddenly swept blank, a cool wave washing over him.

"I think it's about time you met her," Orakzai continued. "Seeing that she's waited her whole life to meet you, or…so it would seem."

Han looked at the president, unable to define the emotions stirring up inside of him. He couldn't fathom what the man was saying. His brain had seemingly stopped working. He couldn't force himself to absorb what this man's words might be alluding to. Was he trying to say-

"Yes, General Solo," Orakzai said, interrupting Han's thoughts. "She's yours."


	11. Chapter 7

_**Motives**_

"_You look like your mother." ~Han Solo_

Chapter 7

The Millennium Falcon_, en route to Corellia_

"It would be favorable, but not totally necessary for you to wave at the press corps upon our arrival."

Chewbacca growled and Han rolled his eyes. They were on their way to Corellia. Han had yet to absorb the fact that he was supposedly someone's father, but Orakzai had produced documents and Leia had shot at him and up didn't seem like up any longer and he didn't know what else to do. Gharris Stanton was accompanying them on the trip as had been the plan and the Assistant to the President of the Corellian Systems had spent every second in the cockpit debriefing the two pilots on their arrival.

"I take that growl as possibly to mean that Wookiees harbor an aversion to the waving gesture?" Stanton replied without missing a beat. "Possibly a human custom and perfectly understandable. Chewbacca feel free to bare your teeth and growl, if that would be more palatable."

Stanton had his head buried in his datapad, apparently securing the most visible hangar bay and an open-air cab for the trip to the President's mansion. Chewbacca turned, bared his teeth and growled – something that just one day ago would've had Stanton falling to a faint. But the assistant merely looked up from his datapad and said, "Yes, just like that. Perfect. Did you know, Chewbacca, that you have quite the following with the younger set back home on Coronet City?"

Han shook his head and smiled in spite of it all. Nothing surprised him now and even Stanton's continuous rambling had been somehow comforting. It at least kept him from thinking too much. He had so much to think about that it nearly seemed impossible to address it all. Like his ship after Leia had shot at him, Han was in a tailspin and he was fighting hard to find his bearings and set a course for his life moving forward.

If he was a father that was shock enough and the idea of meeting his daughter for the first time was turning his bowels into liquid. But that was happening no matter what now, he was on his way. It no longer behooved him to worry about it, really. So that left Leia. He still couldn't figure out how Leia fit into all of this. Had she been told about his daughter? Is that why she had sent him away? The thought turned him cold.

How would Leia have taken such news? Was she mad, upset or disappointed in him over it? It was a lot, even for him to absorb and she was so much younger than him. Surely this wasn't the future she had envisioned. Had his supposed fatherhood been enough to cast doubt on her feelings for him, a doubt that had already been festering if their last real conversation said anything about it? And if so, just what did that say about their entire relationship? About her true feelings for him? He just didn't know.

* * *

_Corellia_

They walked through the spaceport in Coronet City, Han, Chewbacca and Gharris Stanton. There was a mass of people and reporters with holocameras called their names and shouted out questions. In the distance, over the tops of everyone's heads, Han could see the several large vidscreens playing the latest news and galactic developments. There was a live feed, where he could see himself walking across the screen and that was surreal enough but on most, the cameras were trained on Coruscant. The Rebels had won.

Han stopped in front of one of the screens, ignoring the clambering crowd, as he watched Mon Mothma address the people of the galaxy, declaring the final formation of the New Republic. Jan Dodonna stood at her side, General Rieekan and even Luke and Wedge could be seen in the small crowd of dignitaries representing the new government. Leia was conspicuously absent and Han wondered just what that meant. How did everything fit together now in this puzzle that had become his life?

"We should keep moving, General Solo," Stanton whispered as he nudged Han with his elbow. "I overheard a few women conspiring to steal a lock of your hair."

* * *

Han sat back in the open air speeder. Vid-drones buzzed all around them taking photos and videos to play to the masses. Stanton droned on like a tour guide, pointing out all the things that had changed since Han had been on his home world so long ago. Han paid them no attention, staring out into distance, letting the wind and familiar smells of Coruscant whisk him away to another time.

He had met Sasha at a military function. She had been there as the daughter of a high-ranking official. All the young men had taken notice of her. But she had paid attention to only one of them. Despite her well-to-do upbringing, Han had found her easy to talk to and relate. They both, for very different reasons, were trying to escape from beneath the shadows of their heritage. They hit it off right away.

Han was the son of a single mother, thrown into the Academy with some of the wealthiest young men of Corellia. His meager circumstances were a constant source of shame and ridicule. Sasha was the daughter of an Admiral, held to a standard that she wore like a lead blanket, heavy and suffocating across her shoulders. Together all they talked about was escaping. Han shared his dream of flying and they spent days and weeks just dreaming of the places they would go and the things they would do. They were young and they were together and they had thought they were in love.

Han would have never been accepted as a proper suitor for Sasha, another thorn in his pride. But that's where Watts had come in. Watts Sartain, Han's best friend at the Academy, came from a very affluent and influential family of Corellia. He would appear on Sasha's front door to pick her up for dates and excursions and then deliver her to Han who would be waiting nearby. This was how Admiral Orakzai had been kept in the dark about his daughter and Han Solo's relationship. Han wondered how Sasha had broken the news to her father about this baby fourteen years ago.

That thought made Han shrink and all that old familiar uneasiness settled back down upon him. Coming home meant coming to terms with all that he had left behind. His mother was dead and gone now, but his history remained. No matter what he had done, what he had accomplished, now that he was back on Corellian soil, he felt like that poor, awkward teenager that always tried to avoid showing the bottoms of his uniform boots so no one would see the holes in them. The vulnerability was different, not so obvious, but it was still there.

The hover car turned down the avenue that led to Sasha's home. Han rubbed his sweaty palms against his knees. His title and his resume didn't matter here. Nothing, he knew, could replace birthright in the eyes of the old guard. How would Sasha receive him? If as a teenager she had thought he was a wonderful escape, what must she think of him now after he had left her saddled with his child for the last fourteen years?

And what of his child? How had she been received? How had she been treated as the bastard child of an absentee father? Han shuddered. He had never known who his father was and had grown up with all the stigmas that went along with that. Had he unwittingly perpetuated that legacy? Something inside of him burned at the thought. It burned with anger and shame. He tried to reason with himself that it was not his fault, that he hadn't known, but nothing could quench the fire simmering inside of him.

* * *

Han followed Stanton down the marbled hallways of the Orakzai mansion. He had never been so deep within the bowels of Sasha's home. Of course he had attended parties and military functions held in the vast gardens and ballrooms, but he had never been allowed to venture beyond that. Watts, in his role as the pseudo-suitor, had eaten at the small, family breakfast table and even been up to Sasha's room. The sound of Han's footsteps echoed off the walls and ceilings, pounding down on him in time with the beating of his heart.

They had left Chewbacca to survey the grounds and Stanton was now bringing Han to meet his daughter. He had thought he would get to speak to Sasha first, someone at least familiar, someone who could act as a buffer during this initial introduction. But Sasha was 'unavailable' according to Stanton, who said it in such a way that made it sound as if she were off lying on a beach somewhere or getting her hair done.

Stanton turned into a small alcove and opened a door without knocking. "She's expecting you," he said, as he stood to the side and let Han walk into the room.

Han was surprised when Stanton bowed out and shut the door behind him. Wasn't anyone going to stay with him for this? His heart pounded inside of his chest and he wiped his palms against his trousers as he looked around the room. It was some sort of sitting room, filled with occasional chairs, bookshelves and small tables with spindly legs. Floral arrangements, candlesticks, statuettes and framed holos crowded every spare surface in sight. There was a wall of windows across from him that jutted out from the house and offered padded seating on their sills. In the one farthest to the right, Han's eyes landed on a young girl, her face turned out toward the window.

Her long arms and legs were showing bare in her short sleeves and short pants and even though she wasn't standing she gave the appearance of being tall and lanky. Her feet were bare as she sat with her back against the wall of the window seat, her legs bent and her hands clasped around her knees. There was a long lock of auburn hair spilling over her shoulder and down the front of her body. Her head was tilted, resting against the glass and Han studied her profile. Long lashes covered her eyes like awnings on a storefront and her cheekbone swooped down in an elegant arch to a strong jawline. The bridge of her nose sloped straight into a slight pudge at the end, giving her a youthful, playful look in spite of all the long, mature lines everywhere else.

She turned her head and Han saw wide hazel eyes looking back at him. He thought she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"Well, are you just going to sit there and stare at me all day?"

Han swallowed, it was like seeing something spring up from your imagination and speak. He kept thinking that he could not have possible created this creature, something so perfect and innocent. "Sorry, I just…"

She swung her legs off of the cushioned seat and pushed herself up to standing. "Never met a long, lost daughter before? I know, me either." She crossed the room in a wide arc, circling and studying him as if he were an animal in a cage. "This is a little beyond weird, even for this place, and that's saying something."

"You look like your mother."

"They call me Bean. As in pole? I'm taller than every boy I know."

Han laughed, relaxing. "That's not such a bad thing."

"For who?"

"You, eventually. The boys will catch up."

She stopped walking and stood looking at him. "You look different in person. Less…" But she didn't finish. She plopped down into an armchair and said, "I don't care, anyway. All the boys do is tease me."

Han stepped toward her, entering the small arrangement of furniture where she sat. "They always tease the ones they like. That's just what we do."

"Well, then, they must all be madly in love with me. I feel loads better now. Thanks."

Han stared at her, unable to comprehend that this person could be his daughter. It wasn't right, meeting his child like this for the first time. He hadn't been given the chance to just hold her and stare at her before she could talk back and unnerve him. He hadn't held her hand as she tried to walk or coax any new words from her lips. She already had her own personality, her own mind, they had skipped over the part when he could look at her as totally his.

"They're lying to you, you know," she said matter-of-factly.

"They who?"

"Everyone. They call it politics. This house is full of it. Politics, that is."

"What exactly are they lying about?"

She folded her legs in front of her and rested her elbows on the insides of her knees so that she was leaning towards him. "The _what_ doesn't matter so much, really. It's usually the why. The motive. Find out the motive behind the lies," she said, sitting back. "And you'll find all the answers."

Han studied her, he couldn't help it. He kept trying to see himself in every aspect of her, the way she talked, her hands, her eyes, all of it. The words she was saying to him were having a hard time reaching up to his brain; it was already so overloaded processing all of this incoming data. "You seem very bright," he answered lamely.

"I have a lot of time to think," she said, standing up again and walking around the chair where she had just been sitting. "I'm alone a lot. Unsupervised. Left to my own devices."

"You don't go to school?"

"_School?_ No, that would be too proletarian. I have tutors. Lots of them."

"Then, where are all these boys that call you Bean?"

She stopped walking and turned to look at him sharply. "How very astute of you," she said, seeming impressed. "Maybe I made them up? Maybe nobody calls me Bean at all."

"Why would you do that?"

"_See?_" She said pointing at him with her eyes lighting up. "Now you're catching on. Motives. Just like I told you."

"So, what _are_ they all lying to me about?" Han asked as he skirted around a small table and joined her back by the wall of windows.

She placed her hand against the window casing and looked out at the view. "Me," she replied, but did not elaborate.

Han's heart did a somersault and he swallowed. He was already thinking of her as his, but now what if she wasn't? The possibility had already been nearly wholly dismissed. He had heard of and even seen some friends turning on a cred when it came to their children, but he had never believed it would ever happen to him. He was already feeling bereft at the thought of not having this intriguing little creature as his own. "What about you?" He asked.

She turned back to him with those eyes that looked so much like his. "I haven't been _longing_ to meet you my entire life." She shrugged and for the first time she seemed a little sad. "No one ever told me who you were."

"Well, if it helps any, I never knew about you, either."

She straightened up, dropping her hand from the window and squaring her shoulders at him. "I gathered that much," she said as she turned and walked away from him, trailing her finger along the edge of a high-backed piece of furniture. Reaching the end of it, she spun around and added, "You keep looking at me as if you've seen a ghost."

"I guess that's what it feels like. A little."

The young girl looked at him, studying from head to toe. "You said I look like her. She's…not right, you know?" She said. "My mother."

"No, I didn't know."

"She's…," she started but then stopped before shrugging and adding, "I don't get to see her much."

"How long has it been like that?"

Her eyes dropped. "Awhile. I don't know."

"I'm sorry."

"Will you go and see her?"

"Yeah, sure. Of course."

"I wanna go with you when you do."

"Okay." The two strangers stood in the room in silence for a moment staring at each other until Han finally confessed, "You know, they didn't even tell me your name."

The young girl smiled, seemingly amused by that. "I'll have to get on Gharris about that. It's a _horrible_ breach of etiquette," she said, doing a pretty decent job of imitiating the Assistant to the President of the Worlds of Corellia.

The two laughed at that and the knot in Han's stomach loosened a bit.

"Eliza," the young girl said, straightening up and offering her hand to Han for him to shake. "My name's Eliza."


	12. Chapter 8

_**Motives**_

_"Let's just go back to you agreeing with me. How did we get off of that?" ~Princess Leia_

Chapter 8

_Coruscant_

"You should've been there."

Leia stood with her arms wrapped around herself as she stared out the window of her high-rise office with its sweeping views of the busy traffic lanes of Coruscant. This was exactly what Han had predicted for her just a few weeks ago: the New Republic back in power and Leia in a dream office with a fantastic view. Even then she had worried that it was not what she really wanted, and now in the stark light of reality, it was far from what she had dreamed of.

She turned around to face her brother. "I know," she said with a sigh as she skirted around her desk and sat down.

"Are you ever going to tell me what happened?"

"Yes, eventually," she replied flatly.

"_Leia._"

Her gaze had drifted away along with her thoughts. She had never been less focused in her entire life. At Luke's stern use of her name, followed by his damning silence, she snapped back in focus to his face. "I just need…," she began, but then trailed off.

"Just tell me, Leia. Get it over with. You'll feel better."

She redoubled her efforts to focus on him and sighed. "I just need you to support me right now. Right or wrong or indifferent, I just need you to listen and tell me everything's going to be okay."

Luke opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off, raising her hand and twisting her face into a reproachful grimace.

"What I don't need is for you to push me on things. Like my Force sensitivity, or training as a Jedi, or…," she stopped, still not being able to say his name without first hesitating, contemplating what it meant and then shuddering at the thought. "_Vader_," she finally said as if the word carried some contagious disease that could only be transmitted by saying it out loud but it didn't really matter anyway because they were already infected. She then continued, lowering her tone, almost embarrassed, "Or Han_," _she whispered. "Just be my brother. Indulge me, this once, for as long as I tell you it's necessary."

"Alright," he replied, leaning back into his chair. And she knew that he meant it. She knew that no matter how difficult it might be for him, that he would live up to his promise. There was no one she could count on now more than Luke.

She sat and stared at him for awhile. It was still such a novelty: having a sibling. She had been raised as an only child and having a brother or sister had been a frequent fantasy of a very young Princess Leia. "You know, I used to dream about having a sibling," she said out loud, not only to change the subject but to think about something good that was in her life now.

"Really?" Luke asked, looking genuinely interested as he always seemed to do. "I don't think I ever did." He shrugged, thinking. "I mostly dreamed of just moving away someday. Leaving it all behind."

Leia thought to reply that it looked as if they both got what they had wanted, but what they had gotten was so messed up and distorted that she bit down on the words and kept them buried.

Luke stared at her, reading her in his own way. "_So?_" He asked, his expression lightening. "Have I lived up to your lofty childhood expectations?"

With that question, Leia laughed. It was the first time she had done so in quite some time. It felt good, like the memory of something she had once enjoyed that her body responded readily to, as if screaming: yes, more of that! She reveled in it for a moment before smiling and replying, "Not quite."

Luke shifted in his chair. "_What?_ Why not?"

"_Well_." Leia squirmed a bit herself. She was well aware of how childhood dreams and fantasies could be an un-forgivingly clear window into one's soul. But this was Luke. What did she have to hide? "For one thing," she started. "I dreamt of a _sister_, so there's really nothing you could do about that."

Luke eyed her suspiciously, knowing that the heart of the issue was yet to come, but he relaxed a little anyway and said, "Okay, no apologies there. What else?"

"Well, and," she said, stalling. "Looking back, I guess I imagined them, _her_, a little more pliable. You know? Someone who just did whatever I wanted and never questioned me one bit. Certainly didn't push me to do things I didn't want to do." Leia reclined back in her office chair, her eyes lifting to the ceiling, really drawing back on those innocent times. "She would always get in trouble and I would bail her out, sympathize with her and give her good advice. And, I was older, of course and she looked up to me. And whenever I did get into trouble, she was just always there, whenever I needed her just waiting to tell me that I was right and everybody else was wrong."

"_So_," Luke started. "You basically dreamed of having a _minion_, not a sibling."

Leia's gaze dropped back down onto her brother. The twins shared a devilish grin. It was hard to think about a time that he hadn't been in her life. Years may have separated them but time had drawn them close. "Yes, I guess so," she replied, unashamed. "And I have to say that as far as minions go, you're sorely lacking."

"Thank you."

They sat that way for a second, soaking in some warm and fuzzy familial feelings that Leia welcomed openly. "Han has a daughter," she stated flatly, ripping the topic off out of nowhere, like badly adhered bacta from a wound.

"_What?_"

"He has a daughter," she said again, the words came easier that time. "Orakzai's granddaughter, apparently and he wanted Han in exchange for the Corellian fleet. Everyone's been speculating how that deal went down, you know? Well, Orakzai wanted Han…_undivided_. And he made me choose."

"Wow," Luke breathed. "Does Han know?"

"That he has a daughter?" She asked, carrying on the discussion as if they were hashing out menu items for an upcoming event. "I guess he knows by now. Does he know why I did what I did?" She shrugged. "I don't know."

"Have you talked to him?"

Leia scoffed and stood up out of her chair. She went back to the window and looked out over Capital City. "I shot at his ship, Luke. I might as well've stabbed him in the chest. Besides," she said sadly, turning back to look at her brother. "He has a daughter."

_"So?"_ Luke replied, standing up as well. "Are you saying that changed the way you felt about him?"

"No! Not at all. I'm just saying," she paused and shook her head. "I don't know what I'm saying." She waited for Luke to say something but when he didn't she inhaled a deep breath and pressed on. "I guess what I'm saying is that when I made my choice it wasn't just for the troops, just for the New Republic," she stopped. "It wasn't even for that at all, not in the slightest. If it was that I could call him, throw myself at his mercy and let's be honest, it's not like he would be really surprised." She stopped again, listening to her own words and maybe for the first time understanding their meaning. "But all I could think about, all I could imagine was that some little girl out there had lived her whole life without a father, and it was up to me to give her one. I chose because of _that_. What if someone had at sometime made that same choice for us? How different might it have been?"

Luke watched her, for as naive as he sometimes seemed, he took it all in perfect stride. "Well, then, that's all the more reason to talk to him. He has to have been figuring some of this out. He's a reasonable kinda guy, Leia, even when it comes to the _Falcon_."

Leia winced at the mention of Han's ship, the memory of the impact blast still randomly flashed across her eyes unbidden. "Forgiveness for some things is hard to come by," she replied. "And besides, I'm assuming right now he just needs some time with…," she trailed off, waving her hand gently through the air as if to encompass everything else in the universe that was not her.

"Alright," Luke said, shaking his head. "As your _minion_, I guess I'll go ahead and agree with you. But can I say that as your friend and your _sibling_-"

Leia held her hand up. "I already _know_ what my sibling would say. I've said it to myself a thousand times."

"People can forgive anything," Luke replied.

Leia shook her head. "No, not everyone is like you. Not everyone can hear a five second apology and hand out forgiveness like candy."

"I," Luke started, but then stopped himself. Leia could see the heat crawling up his neck. "I thought you didn't want to talk about that?"

"I don't," she replied, stepping away from him and sitting back down at her desk. "Han just needs time and I intend to give it to him." She began to shuffle some flimsies around and busy herself with nothing in particular.

"How can you possibly know what Han needs right now? Leia-"

"Look," she replied, cutting him off. "Let's just go back to you agreeing with me. How did we get off of that?" She could feel Luke's eyes watching her. She tracked his movement in her peripheral vision. Her breathing slowed down a bit when he walked back to his chair and sat down.

"Whatever you say, sister dear," he drawled.

She still didn't raise her eyes to meet his. Too many emotions were running through her to stare down those ice blue orbs. "Good," she replied tightly. "Now, what are we doing for dinner tonight?"

* * *

_Corellian Spaceport _

"So, if I would pull down on _this_, the dampeners would level out the distortion from the interference. And then I could engage the drives?"

"Yeah," Han replied, pride and amazement painted all over his face and radiating warmly all over his insides.

One corner of Eliza's mouth ticked up triumphantly and she turned her attention back towards the control panel of his ship. Han had taken Eliza with him to meet Chewie and tag along as the two of them started on repairs to the _Falcon_. The young girl had taken instantly to Chewbacca, which had been no surprise but then also quite surprisingly to his ship. In fact, their quick visit had turned into an all day affair. Han had fed her rations that were a few cycles expired and the long-sleeves, knees and various parts of the clothes she had been made to change into for this expedition were black with dirt and grease. But she had taken it all without complaint. He wasn't, however, looking forward to the reception their late return would garner them, but he pushed that to the back of his mind to worry about later.

Repairs to the _Falcon_ had progressed painstakingly slow, as Han took the time to indulge his daughter in answering all her questions and allowing her to perform some minor maintenance with an omni tool and a pair of hydro spanners. She was now sitting in the pilot's seat of the _Falcon_ while Han threw simulation exercises at her after she had bragged that she was proficient at piloting the family hovercar around the back garden and didn't see how spaceflight could be any much different.

The question she had just answered had been a throwaway question, something Han had never intended for her to puzzle out on her own. It was a way to end the session with her stumped and thinking about what the right answer might be. Han had hated when his instructors had done that to him back in his days at the Academy and it chafed him a little now to finally understand the value that particular tradition held. But she had not been stumped. She had answered the question correctly, even if it had taken her a little while to figure it out.

He could not have been more proud, it was like the final stamp had been seared into his heart. She was definitely his. Eliza hadn't paid any notice to his obvious wonderment, she had apparently not answered the question to impress him or earn some token praise. The _Falcon_ had just totally enchanted her, something else that Han found entirely endearing. In fact, the child had already moved on, tracing her fingers over the worn labels of switches and buttons, leaning in, squinting her eyes and asking and guessing what each one would do or what it meant. She drew back, her finger still stretched across and pressed against a small dial. "Am I right?" She asked, looking up at him. Han had not heard the question.

He followed her finger over to the dial that she was pointing at. It was the internal calibration meter for the hyperspace relays. He drew his gaze back to meet her inquisitive eyes. Whatever she had asked, he'd give the universe away if she was right. "I think we've had enough for today," he said, standing up. "I'm sure there's some social commitment or household regimen that I'm causing you to miss."

Han had been staying at the Orakzai mansion for just little over a week now and the routine and obligations that came with that were rapidly wearing him thin and his commitments were nothing when compared with his daughter's. He had to dress for meals three times a day and was expected to greet guests when called upon to do so. He was growing impatient to speak to Sasha and hash out some sort of custody arrangement that would allow him to take Eliza with him, or at the very least visit her unrestricted without having to live in the Orakzai home. But meeting with Eliza's mother had been a touchy subject since the very first time he had mentioned it to Stanton and the topic had been unofficially shelved until Eliza's grandfather returned.

Eliza, at hearing Han's answer, fixed her mouth into a frown and looked away from him. The change that came over her facial features was dramatic and although Han had grown somewhat used to it by now, it was still fairly unnerving. When they were allowed to visit alone, Eliza was playful and young, still a bit sharp-tongued and witty but not as cagey as she had been during their first meeting. But at the mere mention of her family or the Orakzai home, the solemnity and the years came crashing down upon her like a cave collapsing in on itself.

Han sighed. "What if I promise we can come back tomorrow?"

Eliza dragged her finger away from the control panel of the cockpit and nodded. She was more resigned than excited by the prospect of another visit on some other day. It was something that worried Han and puzzled him. She seemed hesitant if not completely incapable of looking forward to anything in the future. He first noticed it when he had quizzed her about her lifelong dreams and aspirations. She expressed no desire beyond surviving day-to-day. He had not pressed her on it, but he had made a note of it. And now, he recognized it in almost every interaction they had. She not only could not fathom what her long-term future had in store for her, but she could not or would not even allow herself to venture beyond what might happen to her beyond each and every day.

"Hey," Han said, placing his finger under her chin and lifting her face to his. "Your grandfather is supposed to be home by tomorrow. Maybe we can go see your mom, too?"

She shut her eyes and gave another resigned nod as she stood up and walked past him and out of the cockpit. Han watched her leave, clenching his jaw together and feeling a knot cinching tightly around his heart and staying there.


	13. Chapter 9 - I won't tell anyone

_A/N: Thanks to everyone following this story and reviewing. I'm glad you are enjoying it. Just a warning that I will be taking some vacation in late June, so updates will be scarce. Sorry!_

* * *

**_Motives_**

_"I won't tell anyone." ~ Han Solo_

Chapter 8

_Corellia_

Han looked out of the wide window of the hovercab and clenched his fingers into fists. Eliza sat in the front of the car with the driver, separated from the adults by a privacy screen. Stanton was sitting to Han's right and President Orakzai sat across from Han watching him intently.

"The devastation is extensive," Orakzai said.

"I had no idea," Han replied, watching the rows and rows of empty streets and houses flash by along the ride.

"The _infrastructure_ is intact, so there is that. We've already began an incentive program for families that have multiple children. We have to focus on rebuilding our population, on bringing Corellia back to where it was before."

"Tell me about this virus again," Han replied, dragging his gaze from the window to meet Orakzai's face.

The President shifted in his seat. "It was of Imperial design. They called it Talizar."

"Created in a lab somewhere and dispersed upon our people," Stanton chimed in. "We don't even know how, although we guess it was through our water system since those living in the outer areas with private wells seem to have suffered less than the inner cities."

"It came as a threat of punishment for not following Imperial rule. And as Stanton said, not everyone is susceptible," Orakzai stated. "But those that are…"

The hover car passed another convoy of military vehicles. They were hauling the dead away. Han looked out toward them again. "When did this happen? Why doesn't anyone else in the universe know about it? It's like another Alderaan, just…_different_." Han felt more than saw the anxious glance that was passed between Stanton and Orakzai. He looked back to the President. "What aren't you telling me?"

"The virus was dispersed several years ago. We are as…surprised as you by the extent of the impact," Orakzai stated.

"Several years ago?" Han asked. "And everyone is just dropping dead of it now?"

"As I said, it was a threat," Orakzai replied.

Stanton then added, "Dispersed? We did not know how. All we were told was that as long as we cooperated with the Empire, we would be given the antidote. Antidote as well. Dispersed? We don't know how."

"And all of that time, none of our researchers could develop a cure?"

"It was of incredible design," Stanton answered. "We tested and tested within that first year, but were unable to detect any hint of the disease."

"We assumed it was an empty threat and even quit researching after a time," Orakzai supplied.

"And now whatever it was, they just turned it off," Han whispered, looking back out the window.

"Or on, yes. We don't know," Orakzai replied.

"But the deaths have stopped," Stanton supplied, looking at the President. "By all indications if you have not died by now, you were either not susceptible or were never exposed."

Han looked forward in the hover car. "So Eliza is alright?"

"Yes, it would appear so," Orakzai stated.

Han stared at the darkened piece of glass, knowing that his daughter sat on the other side of it and feeling that she was especially delicate and vulnerable right at that moment. He couldn't stand the thought of perhaps losing her now that he had just found her.

"You already care a great deal about her," Orakzai said, his voice a little hoarse.

Han looked back at the man. All of his instincts screamed not to trust him. This devastation of his home world had to have been some backroom deal that he had brokered with the Empire and now all of his people were feeling the repercussions of it. And he could not shake the feeling that Orakzai had played some role in keeping Eliza from him all this time and then also in bringing Han back now. But why? He couldn't figure it out. Motives. Figure out the motives and you'll find out why people do the things they do. Eliza had told him that.

"She's my daughter," Han supplied as his answer, and looked back out the window.

* * *

"Try not to excite her," the doctor was saying as the group stood in the hallway outside of the room where Sasha was staying. It was not quite a hospital, not even a mental facility, but not any kind of apartment, either.

"And try not to take too much stock in what she says," Orakzai added.

"Yes, well," the doctor continued. "Her condition does lend itself to delusional episodes, especially triggered by stress or excitement, so as I said-"

"Exactly what is her condition?" Han interrupted.

The doctor's mouth opened, but he seemed to be struggling for the right words to say.

"Her mind was broken," Eliza stated tightly.

Orakzai's face showed some emotion that Han had never seen on the man before.

"_That's_ one way to put it," the doctor intervened. "But technically, medically, there is not one single occurrence or diagnosis that can explain her…break. Suffice it to say that she is not in her right mind."

Han did not know how much more bad news he could take in one day, or one week for that matter. He took in a deep breath and said, "Alright, should we just go in?"

Eliza moved toward the door, but her grandfather stopped her. "I think you should go in alone," he said to Han. "The shock of seeing you may be enough for her to handle at one time."

"Wouldn't a familiar face be helpful?" Han asked the doctor.

"Yes," Eliza answered.

"_No_," the doctor said, while glancing at Orakzai. "Not necessarily. Sasha doesn't do very well with crowds."

"This isn't a crowd, this is her family," Han supplied.

"She doesn't always recognize-"

"She always recognizes me," Eliza interrupted.

"Eliza, please. I won't have it," Orakzai stated flatly. "Your mother is not well and has not seen your father in fourteen years. There's no telling how she might respond and I don't want you exposed to that."

Eliza wrenched her arm free from her grandfather's grasp. "It's your control over her that drove her mad," she said, tears coming to her eyes. "I remember what it was like on Pareven."

"Okay, that's enough," Han interjected. "I'll go in alone. If stress triggers her condition, none of you are fit to go in there. Eliza?"

"What?" She replied hotly, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Let me talk to her. Let me see her and then I'll call you in."

"Fine."

Han wiped his hand against his trousers and turned toward the door where the doctor let him in.

* * *

Han stepped into the room and felt and heard the door swooshing shut behind him. The room was large and ornately furnished. If not for the doctor outside and the clinical feel of the hallway and exterior of the building, one would never know that this was anything but a luxury apartment.

There was a woman standing at the opposite end of the room. She wore a short, sleeveless dress that looked like she had just stepped off of a beach. Her feet were bare and she held her arms straight down at her sides while she studied him. It was the same girl that he remembered from so long ago. If he had been pressed before this moment, it would've been very difficult for him to describe her face in great detail. But now, in seeing it again, it all came back to him. He could see the features that made her older looking now. The lines that had never been there, the dullness to eyes that had once been bright.

"Sasha?" He asked tentatively. "It's me, Han."

"Han?" She said his name with the perfect mixture of both disbelief and relief. And then she rushed across the room and threw herself into his arms, hoding him close.

He was shocked by the reaction, although he had thought that the conversation in the hallway had prepared him for most anything. Tentatively, he reached his arms around her and patted her on her back. She pulled away, looking up at him. In her eyes he could see the questions flitting through her mind.

"Wait," she said, stepping out of his embrace. "You," she continued, pointing at him and pressing two knuckles against her temple. "Why are you here?"

Han stood, his legs felt as if they were weighted down to that spot. It hurt, even after all this time, even if she still didn't mean what she had back then, it hurt to see her this way. "I came here to see you, Sasha. I have Eliza with me."

_"Eliza?"_ She replied startled as she began to pace around the room, as if looking for her daughter.

"She's right outside," Han pointed at the door, struggling to keep his voice calm.

"Outside?" Sasha repeated, looking at him, her eyes darting back and forth. "With you?"

"Yes."

"That's not right. How long's it been?"

"How long has what been?"

"No, no, no," Sasha said, looking out the window. "You're here, that's not right."

"What's not right about it, Sasha? I'm here because I'm Eliza's father. Your fa-"

"No," Sasha screamed, turning back towards him and pointing at him again. "Don't say that!"

Han put his hands up in surrender, trying his best to calm her. "It's alright. What's wrong?"

"You're her father?" She said, her voice suddenly calm, yet distant. "You're her father. No, that's not right," she continued, growing increasingly agitated. "Eliza belongs to Watts. Watts is Eliza's father. Yes, right. That's what's wrong."

"Wait a minute," Han said, his heart falling down to his toes. "_What?_" It felt as if the floor was falling from beneath him.

"Watts is Eliza's father," she stated succinctly, wrapping her arms around herself and circling him as she spoke. "That's the way it happened. Watts died and left me alone. It was Watts. It's been Watts that I've been waiting for. Not you. No."

"You and Watts?" Han was shaking his head now. "No, Sasha," he moved to touch her and she screamed again and pulled away.

"He was in my room! He was in my house! He's her father. Not you. Not you. No, no, never you." Then she stopped and twisted her face up in some kind of concentration. "Oh!" She said and started toward the door. "I'm sure he's gone and filled Eliza's head with this nonsense. We have to tell her-"

"No," Han spun around on her and grabbed her. By some miracle she did not scream but looked up at him with petrified eyes. "You don't tell her anything. We'll figure all of this out when I come back."

"So," she said softly, the tension in her body relaxing. "You're coming back?"

"Yes," Han replied, dropping her arm.

Sasha smiled, her face back to its normal expression as if nothing had just happened. "And you'll come and see me again? And we can have lunch?"

"Yes, I'll come and see you again."

"You're Han?" She said, halfway asking and halfway as if reminding herself.

"Yes," Han said, stepping toward her again. "And right now, let's just pretend I'm Eliza's father, okay? Let's not tell anyone else about Watts anymore. Alright?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about Watts," she said, as if sharing a secret with him. "Oh," she added, as if just realizing her mistake. "Please don't tell anyone I told you. It causes so much trouble."

"I won't," Han said, choking on the words. "I won't tell anyone."


	14. Chapter 10 - How's the Falcon?

_**Motives**_

_"How's the _Falcon_?_" ~Leia Organa

Chapter Ten

_Coruscant _

"I'd like you to accompany me to the Capital City," President Orakzai was saying. "The talks are continuing in earnest and I'd like to have you there beside me. General Solo of the Alliance Navy at the right arm of the President of Corellia. It'll be a great coup."

Han sat on the sofa of Sasha's apartment watching as Eliza and Sasha spoke to each other. Eliza, so patient with her broken mother, and Sasha snatching desperately at small glimpses of rationality that allowed her to dole motherly tenderness down upon her daughter. Sasha hadn't revealed anything about their conversation, not yet. Han felt as if he were sitting on pins and needles, he just didn't know how far he could trust the promise of a mad woman. Or how much he could believe her words. Was Eliza not his?

"You're still with me, young man?" Orakzai asked.

"Yes," Han answered, looking over to the President. "Coruscant. When?"

"Within a week," he replied. "We'll be taking Eliza and my daughter with us."

Han's total attention snapped to the older man. "Sasha? Why?" He said, and then realized how that sounded and amended, "I mean, is it okay for her to travel?"

"We have a family suite on Imper-, forgive me, Coruscant that she is familiar with. I don't like to leave her here when I'll be so far from home and there are medications that aid in the transition. She will be fine, General Solo, rest assured."

"I actually don't think I'm a general anymore," he said distractedly, his thoughts moving on to Coruscant and then straight to Leia.

He missed her.

It wasn't the first time that he missed Leia, because he had been missing her even if he wouldn't allow himself to admit it. And now it was the first time that he really let himself admit how much it all really hurt. Maybe it was because his insides were twisted in knots over his conversation with Sasha, but whatever it was, thoughts of Leia hit him like a ton of duracrete. Whatever she had done and why, and he could imagine all kinds of scenarios and reasons, it all hurt unbelievably the same.

He needed her now more than ever. He wanted someone to hold him, to talk to him, to help him through this, whatever it was. But she had thrown him away. Thrown him away, that was how he felt, like a discarded piece of trash, kicked in the gut by a best friend he had carried around with him for years on a pedestal, shot down (literally) by the woman that he loved and given a daughter, only to have her unceremoniously stripped away by a woman whose sanity was severely in question.

He felt as if he didn't know who he was any longer. No longer a general, no longer a lover, no longer a father and worse yet, he no longer cared. Seeing Leia, no matter what the circumstances, seemed to promise some kind of stability, a refuge even if it was only to glare at her from across a conference room table and think about what could've been. He couldn't bring himself to conjure up the anger that he had nursed over what she had done, all that was left now was the pain and seeing her would allow him some outlet, even if that meant only more pain it was better than this emptiness that was threatening to consume him. The fact that he was going to be used as a pawn by President Orakzai, for whatever his motives were, really didn't matter to him at that point.

The president had continued to speak to him, but Han no longer listened. He was watching Eliza and the lines of her profile that he had thought so closely mirrored his own. Her hazel eyes that were now only a mystery. If she belonged to Watts, she should be the ugly reminder of an ultimate betrayal, yet he could still only look upon her with fatherly love. He was conflicted. This child that had swept into his life, he was finding could not so easily be swept away. And whatever Watts had done, it was too long gone now to fight that demon. It was hard to conjure up a true hatred for the dead.

Deep inside of him held some glimmer of doubt that perhaps Sasha was speaking out of her mind. How could he trust the rambles of a woman that was clearly not well? If he could somehow test Eliza's blood against his, then he could know for certain. But he did not want to reveal anything to the young girl. He just couldn't bring himself to imagine the conversation that that would entail. For now, he resigned himself to continue with the charade. He would go to Coruscant, he would sit next to Orazkai on the other side of the Alliance, he would act as a father to Eliza – he would see Leia - and he would figure out what to do from there.

* * *

_Coruscant_

Leia had not been at the negotiations and Han's disappointment was running deep. The longer he was on Coruscant without seeing her, the more he felt as if he were drowning and she were the only pocket of air left in the universe for him to breathe. They were heading to a small reception to mingle before everyone dispersed and met later for a formal dinner and a ball. He was being escorted by an Ambassador for the Alliance, someone he had never heard of or met before. It was somewhat surprising and impressive how many people the Rebels had apparently scattered across the universe during their fight.

"Right this way, Captain Solo," the ambassador said.

Han's arrival on Coruscant had confirmed that he was indeed no longer a general in the Alliance military. Although, surprisingly, it had at least apparently been an honorable discharge. The ambassador led Han into a large room teeming with people and buzzing with conversation and clinking of drinks. Han's thoughts left Leia for a moment and went immediately to Eliza. The voyage from Corellia to Coruscant had been a stressful one. The young girl doted on her fragile mother as if she were a newborn and every frightened wail or confused question from Sasha wore on Eliza's face like battle scars. The more time he spent with the Orakzais, the more confused Han became over the family dynamics, their secrets and as Eliza had hinted to: their motives.

Thoroughly engrossed in his thoughts, Han did not realize where the ambassador had lead him until he stood right in front of her. Leia. The ambassador cleared his throat, as if to waken Han from his stupor before he finally spoke, "I'm sure you remember the Princess?"

Han took a moment to look at her, staring boldly into those wide brown eyes. "Yes, me and my ship remember her well."

"Captain Solo," Leia replied, her voice tight. Han could tell, if nobody else could, that she and her infamous composure were a hairsbreadth away from falling apart. He got little satisfaction from the knowledge. "I'd like to apologize about that," she continued.

"Yeah, I'd like to hear it," he replied flatly as he grabbed her by the arm and began to unceremoniously pull her across the room. After all this time, he was in no mood to politely discuss anything with the casual air of deference that these functions required. He wasn't sure if he could pull it off and didn't have much inclination to try.

"I'll be seeing you later, then?" The ambassador called to them as he was soundly ignored.

Han made his way through the crowded room with Leia uncharacteristically silent as she followed behind him compliantly. He pushed her into a small door and closed it behind them. They were now in a private bathroom with a vanity against the wall and a large mirror above it. Han locked the door and turned to her, towering over her within the confines of the small room. "I need to know why you told me those things before the Battle of Coruscant," he said, heading straight to the point and giving her no quarter. "Why you shot at me."

Leia took in a breath and raised her chin. "If you're asking me that, then I think you already know why," she responded.

"Orakzai?"

She shrunk a little at that one word and then closed her eyes. Han saw the pain that he had been carrying around with him reflected in her features. If they shared nothing else any longer, they stilled shared this and he suddenly no longer felt so all alone. When she slowly nodded her head in confirmation, something inside of him broke lose and he grabbed her by the arms. "What did he tell you?"

She opened her eyes, dropping her austere guard and beginning to look a little frightened by his mood. "That you had a daughter," she sputtered.

"That was it? And you believed him?"

"Yes, I…," she paused, mind reeling. "Why wouldn't I? You had told me about Sasha."

"And so what? That was all? Why push me away? Why shoot at my ship?"

"He wanted you. Unfettered. Unattached." She stopped and then said, "He wanted you to go home."

She said those last words with a depth of feeling that Han knew he would be hard pressed to ever hear again. Home for Princess Leia of Alderaan was a word that could never be uttered lightly. Home had been what they were going to try to find together. Home is what she had been fighting for and for so briefly a time, home had been in each other's arms.

He held her there, blood pounding through his veins, thoughts battering inside of his head as he stood staring down at her. "If he was telling the truth, then why not just tell me? She would've still been my daughter, no matter what happened after that."

"He said he would throw you in prison, said he would hunt you down for the rest of your life. And you had a _daughter_, Han. How could I take that away from you? From _her_?"

He dropped his hands from where he had held her and turned away. "I would've never done that to you." Everything was building up inside of him now, the lies and the betrayal, the hurt and the pain, his love and his hate. Seeing Leia had not brought him any balance or sanctuary, it seemed to bringing him the exact opposite. It was only serving to throw everything into a harsher light.

"That's not fair," she replied. "You don't know-"

He rounded on her and grabbed her by the arms again. "I know I would've never given up on _us_, on _you, _for anything." He paused, glaring at her. "And there's something you haven't mentioned yet, isn't there, Princess? Or is there a reason you haven't said anything about the troops?" He saw her wince at the word and he pounced. "Did you think I would think it was just a _coincidence_ that Corellia turned just as soon as I was out of it? Just as soon as you shot me down?"

"That was part of his deal, but it-"

"If it hadn't been the _troops_ what would you have done? If he had offered you _credits_ or just threats to me alone, what would you have done?"

Her eyes were panicked and shimmering with tears. "I-"

"You _traded me_, for this," he said and he waved his hands around the room. "You're here, on Coruscant, you've gotten everything you wanted for one small price." He leaned toward her and pressed his finger to his chest. "_Me_."

"It wasn't that, Han, please," she replied, reaching out to touch his arm.

He pulled away from her, turned and caught their reflection in the mirrored glass. His own face was tight with the lines of rage and betrayal and his shoulders were bunched up, his muscles rippling with tension. Tears were streaming down her face now and the tops of her arms were red where he had grabbed her. The rest of whatever was left inside of him came crashing down upon the sight of it all, the sight of them - or what was left of them. Han reared back and punched the mirror with his fist, shattering the glass and shredding the skin of his knuckles in the process. He breathed right then, an unencumbered breath for the first time in a long time. The pain, the physical pain felt good in its own way so much easier to focus on then the other.

"Han!"

Stars sparkled at the back of his eyes, the hit was harder than he had intended. He looked down at his hand and saw that blood was already pouring out of the tiny wounds and dripping onto the floor.

"You're hurt," Leia whispered, grabbing for some towels and taking his wounded hand in hers as she began to dab at the cuts and look for glass fragments in the wounds.

"Don't," he said, pulling his hand away.

He stood staring at her and wanting to say more. He wanted to tell her that she had no right to try and fix him when she was the one that had broken him in the first place. He wanted to tell her how much she had hurt him and how alone she had made him feel. He wanted to tell her that he was hurt and he was bleeding, but not from any flesh wound that could be stitched up and covered with synthflesh. But he just stood there in silence as she watched him and it felt as though she had heard it all.

"Han," she breathed. "I'm so sorry, please-"

He interrupted her as he walked forward and pushed her against the wall, lowering his mouth to hers with a bruising kiss. The sweet contact of her lips on his sent a burning warmth searing through his veins. The pain in his hand was throbbing to the rhythm of his pounding heartbeat. She whimpered and relaxed against him, her arms wrapping around his waist and her tiny fingers grasping at the fabric to desperately pull him closer. He curled his wounded hand up into her hair pulling her so close it hurt him. There was no way he could resist her, he knew that now. Maybe that was the most infuriating part of it all. He finally stopped, pulling out of the kiss gently, keeping their lips just centims apart, still allowing them to breathe each other's air.

"Why'd you do it?" He whispered.

"Oh, gods," she breathed, crying. "Han, please."

He shook his head and closed his eyes, lowering his forehead to hers. "I guess it doesn't matter now," he replied, as he let go of her and turned away.

Han picked up another towel and began to wrap it around his hand gingerly as he stood with his back to her. He could hear her breathing slowly coming down to normal and she sniffled once or twice before he heard her ask, "How's the _Falcon?_"

"She's doing better than me."

"Han, I-"

"I know," he said, as he turned back around to her. "I know, Leia. At least I think I know." He scoffed. "Honestly, I don't know what I know anymore. But you," he hesitated as if to say more, wanting to say _'you_, I know', but then he closed his mouth and stopped.

She stayed there, pressed against the wall where he had left her as if she would never move again. "What're you going to do?"

"It's complicated. I'm gonna need some time to sort it all out. I left Chewie and the _Falcon_ on Corellia, so I'll be going back there for sure."

Leia nodded her head and looked down at her feet.

He looked at her with sadness in his gaze. This was not how it was supposed to go for them. She stood hugging the wall of the bathroom looking small and broken. Her hair was disheveled and his impromptu kiss had gotten blood all over the side of her face, in her hair and on her clothes. "You should clean yourself up," he said and then added, "I'm sorry," as he watched her turn her head and consider herself in the crackled reflection of the broken mirror.

"It's alright," she sighed as she finally pushed herself away from the wall and began to wipe away the blood from her face and her clothes. "I probably deserve a lot worse."

"No," he said, leaning against the vanity and watching her. "You don't."

She smiled at him and reached out and placed her hand against his cheek, stroking it slowly with her thumb. It was the perfect salve. "How is she?" She asked. "Your daughter?"

Han winced, but played it off as if the wound on his hand had smarted. He stood up, turning away from Leia as he answered, "She's fine. She's…she's something else." What would it do to her to know? To know that everything she gave up was for nothing?

"So it was true?"

Han turned back to look at her.

"I mean, some of the things you said. It sounded like maybe..."

Of course she had caught his every 'if', had heard his every doubt and fear even if he hadn't voiced a one. Yet he couldn't string the words together in his mind to even mutter them. She's. Not. Mine. She was standing there already so battered and broken, what would it do to her to hear those words? To Eliza? To him? He swallowed. "Yeah, it was true."

* * *

_A/N: Okay, still vacationing! I'll try to update as often as possible. But probably nothing much until after the 4th! Happy Fourth of July!_


	15. Chapter 11

**_Motives_**

_"It doesn't matter." ~Han Solo_

Chapter Eleven

_Coruscant_

"Everything looks so beautiful," Sasha breathed. And then looking up at Han, she added, "And I can't believe you're really here."

Han lead the two ladies on his arms into the ballroom, his daughter on his left hand side and her mother on his right. Sasha had been given a dose of something, the specifics of which President Orakzai and his counterpart Stanton were suspiciously vague about divulging. But whatever it was it had given her a lucidity that was frightening given the state that she lived in all the rest of the time. She seemed the same as back when he had known her, when they were young and he had thought that he loved her.

"You look beautiful, mother," Eliza returned, squeezing Han's arm as she said it. "Doesn't she?"

"Yes," he replied. "You both do." And he gave Eliza a wink.

It hadn't been hard in these last several days to keep up the charade that he was Eliza's father. Knowing or suspecting that she _wasn't_ his was the hard part. She was a part of him. Her very essence and being had crawled up inside of him somewhere and taken purchase. In the very beginning, after Sasha had told him about Watts, Han had contemplated all manner of excuses to get Eliza tested, to know for sure. But the more he was around her, the more he thought about it, whatever the test might say didn't seem to matter any longer. She was his.

Han breathed deeply, his chest not so constricting as it had been. Seeing Leia, no matter how it had all played out, busted knuckles and all, had been good for him. He still felt the ghost of her fingertips clawing at his back as he kissed her, still felt her lips against his and her tongue, hot and hungry, inside his mouth. It was easier to remember those things then it had been to dwell on her leaving him, or on her shooting at his ship. Somewhere deep inside of him lived a belief that they would end up together, find their home together at last and he was comforted by that thought even if it seemed so far out of their reach at the present moment.

"Han!"

A familiar voice called out to him and he turned toward it. "Luke," he said, a genuine smile stretching across his lips as he unlatched himself from Sasha and Eliza and shook his old friend's hand.

"Leia told me that she'd seen you. It's great that you're here."

"Thanks, kid," he said, noticing that the old label barely fit the maturing Jedi any longer. "This is Eliza," Han offered, turning to the young girl. "My daughter," he added and then turned to Sasha and introduced her.

Luke shook hands with both ladies and complimented them. Han could barely read his friend's expression, it was something akin to bittersweet.

"You're the last remaining Jedi," Eliza said and not with the customary awe that usually accompanied the statement but with a certain amount of reverence that seemed to go beyond her young years.

All eyes turned to the both of them as Luke responded, "Well, not exactly. I hope to find others that may have hidden, like Obi Wan Kenobi. Or, if not that, at least some Force sensitives that I could train."

"It's a great burden," she replied, compassion on her voice and in her eyes.

"And one I don't take lightly."

"So, it'll be in your power to recreate the Jedi in the way that you see fit?"

Han watched as Luke squirmed a bit, probably not accustomed to an interrogation such as this one coming from a young, strange girl. "Well, that's not exactly true either. Much of the Jedi teachings and the Jedi Code have been preserved. I will have history to guide me on rebuilding the future."

"Yes, but do you think the Jedi Order should be rebuilt in exactly the same way? I mean, giving everything you know and have been through, should all the old customs just be blindly adopted or each of them questioned on their own merit? And if so, are you willing or capable of tossing them aside or at the very least rewriting them?"

"Well, Eliza," Luke replied, smiling. "I have thought about everything you've just said. There all excellent points and honestly," he said, rubbing his hand along the back of his head and very much looking like the 'kid' Han used to know. "I'm not entirely certain what the right answer is."

"Good," Eliza replied, grinning as if he had said exactly what she had wanted to hear. "As long as you're _thinking_ about it. That's more than most would do."

Luke gave Han a look that said he was impressed and a bit relieved that his test was over. A band struck up a song in the background and Sasha grabbed Han's arm and pulled at him.

"Oh, please dance with me, Han. I haven't danced in ages," she said, her eyes bright and clear as they sparkled in the overhead lighting.

"Uh, I don't know," Han edged as Eliza grabbed his other arm and mimicked her mother's tugging.

"Please, Dad. It would mean so much to her," Eliza pleaded.

Han saw Luke bow his head and say something as he took his leave with a smirk but he didn't hear anything any longer, not Sasha's pleas or Eliza's whines because all that he could hear was that one word: Dad. It was the first time Eliza had ever called him that. After everything that had happened to him lately, Leia shooting the _Falcon_, Orakzai telling him that he was a father, Sasha revealing that he wasn't, he didn't think anything could faze him any longer. Boy had he been wrong.

"What is it? Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my nose?" Eliza was fidgeting beneath Han's loopy stare.

He took his finger and tapped her nose with it. "No," he said. "You called me dad."

Eliza blushed. "I know," she replied. "Is that okay?"

"Why wouldn't it be?" Sasha interjected. "Now are you going to dance with me or not?"

"Yes," Han said quickly to Sasha and as he began to lead her away toward the dance floor he eyed a very pleased Eliza with a lopsided smirk and added, "And yes to you, too." Eliza beamed in response and Han watched her until the couples on the dance floor obscured his vision.

He spun Sasha out and then back into his arms and she landed there with a giggle. He hadn't missed what she had said about Eliza calling him dad. Now in this lucid state, was she going to retract what she had said? His heart fluttered a little inside of his chest.

He placed one hand on Sasha's lower back and held one of her hands in the other. She looked up to him with a radiant smile that reminded him of how she had looked as a teenager. "Tell me about Eliza," he said, not wanting to waste this opportunity with her unhurried mind. "About when she was born. What she was like growing up."

"She came early," Sasha said, seeming more than pleased with his chosen topic. "At least that's what the doctors said. For me it wasn't nearly early enough. I couldn't wait to hold her in my arms. She was just so perfect. She was a perfect little part of…"

Han saw the cloud move across Sasha's features and frowned. "What?"

Sasha blinked and continued, but she did not complete the thought that she had cut off. He let her talk, ignoring the slip and doing his best not to guess what it was that she might have wanted to say. Sasha's face lit up with stories. Her body was animated with the joy those memories were obviously bringing to her. Han smiled and listened and twirled her around the dance floor to the beat of the lilt in Sasha's tone and the music in his ears.

* * *

Leia stood in the shadows near the entrance of the great hall. Her eyes on the dance floor. She felt Luke as he made his way over to her. "That's his daughter's mother," she stated, as her brother came to stand next to her, joining her in silence.

"Yes," Luke answered.

"Is his daughter here?"

"Right over there." Luke pointed. "Talking with her grandfather."

Leia sought out President Orakzai first and then let her eyes land on the young lady standing next to him. "She's tall…beautiful."

"Sharp, too. Han'll have his hands full."

Her eyes went back to the dance floor and something constricted tightly around her heart.

"You coming in?" Luke asked.

"No," Leia whispered, shaking her head. "I think I'll go."

* * *

"Whenever she did that," Sasha was saying. "I would always think of you."

Han's heart skipped a beat at those words. Sasha had poured out a litany of stories about Eliza as a baby and growing up. He felt for sure that her cache in that department might just be about bottomless, which would've been a perfect match for his thirst to hear them. But there were comments, hints, suggestions that continued to tug at his already tender heart.

"Sasha," he said soberly, slowing down the rhythm of their dance. "Is she mine?"

"Wha-?" Sasha replied, stumbling back enough that Han had to catch her, the dull cloud skidding across her eyes once again.

He tightened his arm on her, pulling her close. "Is she mine or Watts'? Just tell me, please." He might not get this opportunity again, she was here, she was with him and not lost somewhere in her rattled mind.

"Y-yours?" She asked stuttering and looking pained. "No," she said, raising her voice and becoming agitated. She looked panicked. "Watts'. Watts? No, I don't know. Oh, god."

Han pulled her to him and petted her hair. "Shhh," he said. "It's alright," he soothed. Her body shook slightly in his arms as she fought to right herself once again. It was sad and scary how close to the surface her insanity slept. She seemed to give every indication that Eliza belonged to Han, yet the words, the final confirmation would not come. Why? He had to hear it. He had to _know_. But he refused to expose Eliza to any tests and now he couldn't find it in his heart to push Sasha any further then he already had. He shut his eyes and shook his head. "It's alright," he repeated to Sasha, but he was mostly talking to himself. "It's alright," he repeated. "It doesn't matter."


	16. Chapter 12

_**Motives**_

_"No one is leaving this room until I get some god-damn answers." ~Han Solo_

Chapter Twelve

_Coruscant_

Han stood on the balcony of his hotel room on Coruscant and watched the traffic go by. There was a light breeze and the air was thick with the smog that comes from being the galaxy's largest city on its most populated world. It wasn't often that Han got to enjoy the fresh air, no matter how fresh it was or was not, so he took a long, drowsy lungful before he rested his arms on the railings and let his mind wander out into the sea of headlights and taillights buzzing by in the sky ahead.

He was still in his dress tuxedo from the ball, although his tie was loosened and the first few buttons had been undone. His black shoes, still polished to a shine, were tossed alongside the bed where he had kicked them. The jacket, more confining that stuncuffs in his mind, was relegated to that space under the bed where he hoped never to have to see it again. He had his sleeves rolled up and he threaded his fingers together as he leaned on the railing thinking about everything and nothing all at once.

He didn't drink much, not anymore, but he felt as if he could go for a stiff drink. A cool, short glass resting comfortably in his hand, cubes of ice clinking together as he swirled them around distractedly. Leia hadn't come to the ball. He didn't know what to think about that. Before they had parted from their impromptu collision inside the tiny bathroom, she had indicated that she would see him that evening. He had been with Eliza, and by default Sasha, so he had not entertained any whirlwind reunion between the two of them on the dance floor, but he had looked forward to seeing her again – to introducing her to his…to Eliza.

The sound of muffled voices and rumbling noises competed with the wind and traffic out on the balcony. Han did not miss living in high rise living facilities where every argument could be shared with the floors above, below and the neighbors all around. Not that sharing his small ship could be much more private when he had guests aboard. But it was _his_ ship and that made all the difference in the universe. The sounds grew louder, so much so that Han turned around to stare back into his room as if someone might come crashing through the ceiling at any moment. And then someone did come crashing in, only it was through his door and it was Eliza.

"Captain Solo!"

The first thing he noticed before anything else, and there was a lot to notice, was that she hadn't called him dad. Not only that, but she used the most formal title available to her to address him. It didn't stab him painfully in the chest; it was all so new anyway, he was sure that it would take time for all those little things to work themselves out. And if he had learned anything by his years of fighting alongside Leia, it was that sometimes that ingrained etiquette came out in a person during the most stressful times of their lives.

The next thing he noticed, and it only took him a split second to do so, was that Eliza was a complete mess. Her hair, which had been put up into an elaborate something or other that even Princess Leia would've been jealous of, was falling down and damp with sweat or some other substance. The front of her dress appeared to have blood on it, she was shaking, her eyes alight with terror and she wasn't wearing any shoes.

He skirted through the balcony door and approached her hurriedly. "What is it? What happened to you?" He began to search her hands and face for a wound, but Eliza brushed him off, grabbed his arm and began to pull him toward the door.

"It's not me. It's my mother. Please, come quick."

Han allowed her to pull him out into the hallway and down the short corridor to the Orakzai's suite. The door to the living area sat open, which was odd. President Orakzai was fanatical about security. Han walked in not knowing what to expect. Had someone tried to kill the President of Corellia and Sasha had gotten caught in the crossfire? They made their way through the large living area and Eliza lead Han right into one of the bedrooms in the suite.

Han was immediately hit by a fetid smell that reminded him of hangovers and headaches while across the room he saw Sasha writhing and wailing on the large bed with the President and Stanton attempting to attend to her. There was blood coming from her nose and ears and what looked like vomit all down the front of her dress and on the coverlet of the bed.

"Do you see?" Eliza began screaming, her nails digging into his arm as she pulled him ever further into the room. "Do you see what they did to her?"

The two men glanced up, just noticing that Han was in the room. "Get out of here," Orakzai growled. "This is none of your concern."

Han bristled at the dismissal and took the last few steps into the room without Eliza's prompting. "What the hell's going on?" He asked.

"Eliza," Orakzai said calmly. "Get him out of here, this instant. Do you hear? This doesn't involve him."

"No!" Eliza screamed, looking as young and fragile as Han had ever seen her. "No, I won't. I want him here, I want him to see. Oh, goddess. Mother!"

Eliza ran to the bed and held her mother's hand while Sasha turned her head feebly and vomited again. Han watched as Stanton pressed a needle to the woman's neck and Sasha whined and began to visibly relax, resting her head down on the pillow and mumbling something incoherently as she looked up at the ceiling.

"It's okay, Mother. I'm here. Eliza's here. Can you hear me?" Eliza was squeezing her mother's hand as she spoke to her and she began to run her hand along the side of the woman's face in an effort to comfort her.

Stanton closed up a small bag and stepped away from the bed as he and the president exchanged a furtive look from across the room.

President Orakzai looked down at the two women. "Eliza, leave her be. I'll send for the nurse to clean her up."

"No," Eliza spat as Han studied her in disbelief and horror. The girl was beside herself. Her nose was running, her eyes were red and the skin on her face and chest was blotchy and splashed with vomit and blood. "I'm not leaving her, you monster," she cried. "I'm not leaving her like this."

"Suit yourself," the president replied as he and Stanton made their way to the door and towards Han.

Han stood, filling his chest cavity with air and making himself as large as possible to the two men approaching him. If parental instincts were anything, he was certain that his had just kicked in full force. "No one is leaving this room until I get some god-damn answers."

The president sighed, although it was certainly more out of annoyance than fatigue. "You'll get your _god-damn_ answers, just not in here. Step aside." And he waved Han off dismissively.

Han debated only for a quick moment. He didn't want to expose Eliza to anything else this evening if he could help it, so he took a calming breath and complied letting Orakzai and Stanton brush past him and into the living area. Looking back to the bed, he spoke to Eliza, "Are you gonna be alright?"

"Yes," she sniffled, looking back at him and wiping her nose with her hand. "And I want to know what they tell you, because I know the truth." She turned back to her mother and repeated softly, "I know the truth."

Han crept slowly out of the room as if leaving a sleeping infant behind and quietly pulled the door closed behind him. His fingers immediately curled into tight fists as he turned and moved his attention to the two men waiting for him in the other room. "What the hells is that all about?" He asked, pointing to the shut door as he made his way across the floor to them.

Orakzai began shaking his head, like someone does when a bird flies into a large window and breaks its neck. "It's _unfortunate_," he said softly. "Usually Eliza is not here. This has all been made very worse by her...dramatics."

Han narrowed his eyes at the man, not able to comprehend what he was saying. "_Usually?_" Han repeated. "This has happened before?"

"It's a side effect of the medication," Stanton supplied, very clinically and matter-of-factly.

Han turned his head to the man slowly and Stanton visibly withdrew, lowering his head into his shoulders and casting his eyes down onto the floor. "_What_ medication?" Han asked, turning back to Orakzai.

"Well, you saw how she was tonight at the ball," he said, turning toward the liquor cabinet and reaching for the makings of a drink. "So lucid. So _alive_. So like she used to be. We thought," Orakzai paused, his hand resting on the decanter of amber fluid and his eyes taking on a faraway look. Then he turned his attention back to his task and began pouring a drink as he continued, "We thought it was a miracle when we first gave it to her. But then…the side effects." And he took a sip of his drink as he finished his sentence.

"You son-of-a-bitch," Han growled as he moved forward and knocked Orakzai's drink from his hand. "I'd call that more than side effects. You _knew_ about that," he said, pointing back at the horrific scene he had left in the other room, "and you still gave it to her?"

"We had to give a very large dose for it to last all evening as it did," Stanton interjected helpfully. "I cautioned the president against it, but normally-"

"There's nothing _normal_ about that, pal," Han said, rounding on the man. "And just what are you? Why the hell were you sticking a needle in her neck?"

Stanton straightened his shoulders. "I am, as I explained to you, the President's assistant. I just also happen to have a degree in medicine, as well."

"You're a doctor?"

Stanton stood even taller. "Trained at the Imperial University."

"That's no flippin' surprise," Han mumbled as he drew his hand across his face and let his shoulders drop into a slouch. Fatigue was settling into his bones and he felt too drained to try to make sense out of this whacked out family any longer. He drew his eyes back to Orakzai who had poured another drink but set it down after taking a long, healthy swig. Han addressed him. "You're her _father_. How could you think this was alright?"

"That's right," Orakzai said, his voice becoming cold and regal. "_I am_ her father and you have no rights in this room or that one." And he pointed to the other room. "I'll do as I damn well please and you'll tow the line as I direct you."

Han blinked and ticked his head to the side while something like warning bells began to whine softly in the back of his mind. Orakzai's words had hit him like a laser blast. _No rights_. He hadn't even thought about that. In the beginning, when he had first arrived, he had thought about getting parental visitation rights for Eliza so that he could take her off world or at least into a house of his own. But if she wasn't his, no matter if Orakzai seemed willing to play along with the charade right now – or was ignorant about it himself - Han could never hope to turn a power play on the man and take his granddaughter away from him. All it would take was one blood test and Han would be left with nothing. No court in the world would hand over his best friend's daughter to him.

Han stumbled back a few paces and wiped his hand across his face again. Orakzai picked up his drink, walked across the room and sat down on a long lounger.

"You won't be giving her any more of that medicine," Han whispered, but his vocal chords rumbled with warning.

"After tonight's events, I'm inclined to acquiesce to that demand," Orakzai responded. But then he crossed his legs and looked up to Han with a smirk that was just begging to be punched off of his face, as he said, "But don't go thinking you have any say of it beyond this visit, young man. When I require my daughter and granddaughter to appear at functions with me…fully _functioning_ – then she shall have the medication as I see fit."


	17. Chapter 13 - I know

**_Motives_**

"_I know." ~Princess Leia_

Chapter 13

_Corsucant_

A woman walked into the hotel suite dressed all in white and carrying a small bag. She seemed to sense the tension in the room as she jumped slightly at the mere lift of the president's head as he nodded in the direction of the bedroom. Han stared Orakzai down, squeezing his fingers together into tight fists and then releasing them. The president remained cool, appearing not to notice him as he sipped on his drink and sighed as the alcohol burned down his throat. The murmured hush of voices from the next room, Eliza's waning sobs mixed among them, finally made Han snap out of his dangerous mood and turn on his heel to return to the side of his daughter.

The word didn't even trip inside of his mind any longer: daughter. For whatever reason that he was brought here, he had found her. A young child, tied to him by a puzzled past and whether she was his or his best friend's didn't matter, she needed him. She needed protection from this life that she had been living. He walked into the room and she ran into his arms. He held her to him, rubbing his hand along her back as she pressed her face against his chest and he watched the nurse do her job. Sasha was limp and incoherent as the woman tended to her, another life in need of protection.

"What did they tell you? What did they say?" Eliza asked, wiping the backs of her hands against her eyes and sniffing.

"That the medication that makes her…normal," Han whispered as he watched the nurse wring out a rag full of vomit into a large bowl. "Also has severe side-effects."

"Oh, god," Eliza replied, pressing her hand against her mouth as if to be sick. "Do you know how many times I begged my grandfather and Stanton to give her more of that medicine? Before I knew...," she stopped, burying her face against Han's chest once again.

Han drew her to him, encasing her in his arms and kissing the top of her head. "But you didn't know and it's over now."

"No," she said, sobbing against his chest. "It isn't. He'll do it again. He always does. He's so proud. So ashamed that my mother is…what she is." Eliza pulled away to look at him and added, "What he _made_ her."

Han held her by the arms and leveled his gaze at her. "You've said that before. What do you mean by it? How did he do this to her?"

Eliza's mouth worked open and closed a few times but no sound came out. Her frightened eyes glanced back at the nurse and then up to Han. "I remember," she said. "Before he found us, before we came here." She started crying, knees buckling as she fell against Han again.

He held her to him, supporting her. "I'm not gonna let him give that medicine to your mother. Ever. Do you hear me? Never again."

"You can't," she choked, shaking her head against him and pounding her small fists against his chest feebly. "You can't stop him. You can't."

"I will," Han stated, cradling her head in his hands as he spoke to her, pulling her against him so that she couldn't flay her arms against him any longer. "I'll find a way."

* * *

_Coruscant, The Next Day_

"You weren't there last night," he whispered in her ear as he came up beside her.

They were heading to the same meeting. Some thing or other that Orakzai had wanted him to attend. After the previous night's events, Han was less than eager to be cooperative with the President's requests, but whatever Orakzai's game was, he wasn't going to win it by alienating himself from the man this soon. Besides, he knew that Leia was supposed to be there so he begrudgingly complied.

"Actually, I was," she replied without missing so much as a beat.

This piqued Han's interest. Her answer and her body language, cool and dismissive and so different from yesterday. Had she reflected back on their encounter and regretted it? Was she angry with him for losing his control? "Then why didn't I see you?" Han asked, attempting to keep his voice as cool as hers.

"You were busy," she said, glancing up at him. Her eyes were not dismissive, there was something else. He had definitely misread her tone. She looked back ahead of them and added, "On the dance floor."

The word formed in his head: '_oh_' but he didn't say anything, remembering back to the dance floor and then: '_holy shavit_'. He grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the main thoroughfare and into a side hallway. "Leia," he said, in that way that he had that said a few paragraphs of dialogue. He knew it did, she had told him it did.

"Han, really, I understand. I just, I didn't expect to, I-"

"You know there's nothing between us," he said, and then he stepped back and ran his fingers through his hair. Leia had no idea how ridiculous this particular jealous twinge was and he didn't have the time to explain it to her. "For Sith's sake, I'm doing my best here to try and keep all of this together. There are things," he said, stepping back toward her and grabbing her by the arms.

"Han, I know," she said, twirling her forearms around and breaking free from his embrace, shaking her head as she did so. "Really, I do. And I know I have no right-"

"No," he interrupted her, pointing his finger at her face. "Don't even start that, not you. Out of everybody else," he stopped. "Just don't say that."

"Han, what do you want me to do?" She asked, a tinge of whining beneath her tone, something he had never heard from her before.

"Just be patient," he said. "And trust me."

It was her this time, he knew it. He hadn't moved, hadn't flinched and she was on him. Hands wrapped around his neck, fingers twining in his hair. Lips moist and open pressed against his. It was quick, almost as if it hadn't happened, but he knew it had. The tingling on his tongue and the tightness in his groin knew it had. "I can do that," she whispered against his lips as she slowly drew back from him. "I can do that for...a very long time."

* * *

Princess Leia sat at the conference room table and stared at the backside of one Han Solo. She certainly didn't mean to be staring and was not entirely conscious of it, but her eyes, her attention, her mind could not be drawn to any other thing but him. They were finishing up a meeting that she had been pulled into since it concerned, in some part, remuneration and reparations for the victims of the war and she was currently the Acting Councilman for the People of Alderaan. But the only remuneration and reparations she could think of at present were concerning the ghost of kiss that still lingered on her lips and the deep ache that rested down low in her belly.

"I must say."

A voice interrupted her thoughts and caused her to jump and bring her eyes away from boring into Han's backside.

"He has been quite impressive during all of this," the voice continued.

It was Mon Mothma. The Leader of the Alliance to Restore the Republic sidled up next to Leia, leaning against the conference room table and staring down at a now blushing Princess.

"Captain Solo?" Leia asked, straightening herself out in her chair and trying to regain her composure.

"Yes, Corellia's lucky to have him," Mon answered with a smug smile as she cautioned a glance behind her to set her eyes on the man himself before she looked back down to Leia. "I have to admit, as you well know, that I'd never been a large proponent of him. But he has certainly proven me wrong. _And_ from the other side of the negotiating table, at that. Serves me right, I guess."

Leia watched as Mon spoke to her. The woman was relaxed and she had crossed her arms during the latter half of her speech. There had been a time when Mon Mothma had been an ideal, a mentor to Leia, but that time had passed. She still held a deep respect for the woman, but she no longer desired to be just like her. Mon had given up everything for her career, for this war, she had lost her only son on the battlefield and time constraints and traveling had reduced her husband to an ornament that she would bring out for special occasions, like a brooch pinned on an evening jacket.

Leia wondered if that was how she and Han would've wound up had everything gone the way it was supposed to. She was certain that if the Corellian debacle hadn't have happened, she would've gotten a more formal title and position in the New Republic and Han would've at least stepped foot on Capital City as a General for the New Republic military, no matter how long it might've lasted. But then what? Neither one of them had really figured any of that out. Now she had a token title with the new government and Han was sitting across from her alongside the strongest planetary leader on the entire council.

She was aware that Mon was watching her, but didn't rush into the conversation. There was plenty of water underneath the bridge of their relationship, but even still, at the base of it – they were comrades and respected colleagues – if not friends.

"You know, Leia," Mon continued. "I've made many mistakes in my life. Misjudging Captain Solo is only but one of them."

Leia stared up at Mon but still did not comment. She knew those words would be the closest thing she would ever get to an apology for all the things Mon had said during the time that Leia had left to rescue Han from Jabba the Hutt.

Mon stared down at Leia as if thinking of something. Then she took a deep breath, stretching her shoulders back before she leaned in a little and said, "Your father sat propped up against my desk, much as I'm sitting against this table now and whispered the word _rebellion_ to me for the very first time. He was the spark that set this whole universe aflame. Everything here, now, today is what he envisioned oh, so long ago." She glanced around the room again and added, "Maybe it's not exactly as we had all planned, but it's very damn-near close. And," she paused, drawing in another deep breath. "I guess what I'm trying to say, in my most diplomatic, round-about way, is: we're at the other side of it, Leia. We're here, we made it through and I hope we can enjoy it together – to some, if not even just a very small, extent."

Leia let a small smirk play at her lips before she replied, "It doesn't have to be so small."

Mon returned the gesture with a wide smile of her own. She leaned her shoulders back again, putting on her more formal airs and said, "How's the Alderaanian Council faring?"

Leia swallowed and gave one nod before she said, "It's going well. There's much more than I expected. More of everything. More resources in the treasury. More artwork and artifacts that happened to be off-world. More Alderaanians, some ex-pats that had already relocated, but there are thousands of displaced citizens that are looking for a new home. It's…it's going well."

"And the members of the Inaugural Council?"

"We're holding our first election next week. We have some good candidates. We'll be fine whichever way it goes."

"You should've had a mandatory seat on that Council, Leia. You shouldn't have left that up to an election."

"No," Leia replied. "I should have and I did."

"Well…perhaps you're right," Mon conceded. "And what of Captain Solo? What's your relationship with him during all of this?"

Leia narrowed her eyes at her. She wasn't surprised that Mon would not only take a liking to Han at this point but now also consider their relationship a boon, but she was surprised that she was so very blatant about it. Leia glanced back at him before answering, "We're…at the opposite sides of the negotiating table in more ways than one."

"Ah," Mon answered and then leaned in a little and added, "I didn't ask for the benefit of the Alliance, honestly. I was asking for you."

Leia eyed her warily, but then decided that she just might be telling the truth. "I don't know if things were any different between us whether it would benefit the Alliance or not. Han's not one to be manipulated."

"Well, that is true," Mon replied. "And what about Luke? How has he been during all of this?"

* * *

_Corellia, a few weeks later_

It solved everything. All the problems that had been keeping him up these last few weeks since returning to Corellia, it would erase them all. It was so simple. Yet the contents of his stomach burned when he thought of it. How, how, how did he end up here? Backed into a corner. It was the only thing that he could do. The only way out that he saw. But he couldn't be a coward about it. There was one more thing that had to be done, one final step in the process before he could implement his plan.

He sat staring at the holocommunicator as if it would mercifully disappear if he willed it to do so. But it did not. So, he punched in the long code and talked to the three or four people that it took to patch him through until he heard her voice from across the universe and it ripped away at his heart until everything inside of him turned to ash and mercifully went numb.

"_Han? Are you there? Is that you?"_

"Yeah, it's me," he croaked.

"_What's wrong? Are you okay?"_

He waited, mercifully begging every god in the universe to drop some other solution into his lap. But there was nothing. And so he swallowed and said, "I'm getting married."

It was the longest stretch of silence that he had ever encountered. There was a pressure building up at the back of his throat and a low buzzing in his ears as he strained to listen for her response. "_Okay," _she finally said.

That was it? She didn't want to know why? Didn't want to yell at him? Scream? Beg him not to? Punch a mirror? Something? "Don't...don't you wanna say anything?"

Her voice came over the intercom, calm - restrained. "_Would it matter? Anything I said?"_

He pressed his forehead against the palm of his hand and shut his eyes. It was like watching his future implode on the back of his eyelids. "No."

That damnable silence stretched out again, tearing his very being into pieces like a slab of meat at a butcher's shop. He curled his fingers into fists. This was the only way. He had to keep telling himself that until he could get off of this call and crawl into a hole somewhere and forget this ever, ever happened. He could never see her again, never look her in the face. Never think about, never remember-

"_I'm glad you called," _she said.

"I love you, Leia," he blurted out, the words choking out of him the way a teary-eyed confession spills brokenly out of a hurt child.

There was a silence, shorter this time, before she replied, "_I know."_


	18. Chapter 14

_**Motives**_

"..._it's okay to not understand someone, to not agree with what they do, for them to hurt you and for you...to still love them." ~Han Solo _

Chapter 14 

_Corellia_

It had only taken a week for Han to decide on his plan. It had actually been Chewbacca's idea. Not that it didn't pain him greatly, his old friend had an immense love for Princess Leia but the Wookiee had argued eloquently about the male's responsibility to protect the lives he brought into the universe and the woman that had done that for them. Han didn't have the heart to tell Chewbacca that this particular life wasn't even his to protect. Not that it would've made much difference to Chewbacca anyway. The old Wookiee held a gigantic soft spot for Watts, seeing as the young man had died rescuing him. Regardless, the choice had been made. It was hard not to see the logic behind the Wookiee's plan, it did solve everything in one small package.

The last thing Han had to do was make the call to Leia. It had been harder than he had anticipated. She had taken it so well and when Leia didn't show emotion, that's when Han knew that she was really hurting. She hadn't asked for an explanation, hadn't wanted to hear any excuses. That was all probably for the best, as well. How would she feel if she knew the whole truth? That everything that had been set into motion by her and Orakzai had been an elaborate farce. She would blame herself and that would only add to her pain. It was best that she didn't know. Somewhere inside she knew that Han was doing this for reason's other than the norm and that would have to be enough. He had wished that he would never have to look her in the eye again, but that thought had quickly passed. He couldn't wait to see her again, to try and explain on some level.

The door to his room opened and he heard Stanton's voice calling for him. Han clipped his cuff link into place and responded, "In here." Today was the big day. Everything had been set up already. The last two weeks had been spent with Han and Orakzai at the negotiating table. The president had been unfazed by Han's proposal, almost as if he had expected it. That made sense, he had brought Han here under the guise that Eliza was his daughter, perhaps he had wanted him to take care of them both. Regardless of his reasons, Han had made his demands. He wanted full access to Sasha's care, including what doctor's tended to her and where she would live. As for Eliza, he demanded that legal adoption papers be drafted no matter how much Orakzai sputtered about paternity rights and the lack of necessity for it.

To Han's surprise, Orakzai had come to the table with a few demands of his own, although they had been fairly easy to agree to. First off, he wanted Eliza to remain at the family residence, offering to remove himself and live permanently at the president's apartment downtown. His second request was that Han not permanently relocate Eliza or Sasha from Corellia. Defined parameters for traveling and vacationing were outlined, but it was not anything that Han couldn't live with. Lastly, and this was the most curious demand, Orakzai wanted Han to accept a position on the president's cabinet, namely as his Trade Secretary. It was an important position and one that Han did not cringe at while reading the general job description, it actually seemed to suit him quite well and it came with a salary that was five times as much as he had ever made either as a smuggler or a general with the Alliance. If he was going to be a father and any kind of a husband, he would have to think about money and even though this hardly helped with his gaining independence from Orakzai, it was a step in the right direction. He could make some money, save it away and eventually escape.

"Ah, there you are," Stanton sighed as he tentatively walked into Han's dressing room.

"Come on in," Han replied, snapping the other cuff link in place.

"I," Stanton started but stopped.

The man's jittery tone made Han look up at him and take notice. Stanton stood in the doorway, poised as if ready to run for a quick escape. There was a small piece of flimsiplast clutched in his hand and sweat dripped down the side of the usually collected aide to the president. "What's up, Gharris?"

"I, I've been with the president for quite some time. I don't know if you realized that."

"Yeah, I kinda figured as much. And?"

"There are records that I've kept for him. _Things_ that I know."

"I can imagine. What does that have to do with me?"

"If you recall, years ago. Fourteen years, to be precise. You and one Watts Sartain were called in for a blood test."

The hair on the back of Han's neck came to attention as Han turned his body to face Stanton fully. "Yeah."

"I believe it was under the guise of an outbreak," Stanton continued.

"Yes, something like that."

"There was no outbreak, as I'm sure you've probably worked out by now."

"I hadn't thought about it," Han replied and it was the truth. His memories of that fateful day were so full of other more pressing items, that the small blood test had gone almost completely forgotten.

"Well, there wasn't," Stanton supplied. "Your blood samples were used to run a paternity test, for whom I'm sure you can now take a guess at."

"Eliza," Han whispered. "That makes sense," he continued, his mind racing back to that day. "That day, I remember, that secretary told Rutien that Orakzai was waiting on an update." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Hadn't made much sense back then."

"Yes, well, now you know," Stanton replied and he began to unravel the piece of flimsiplast in his hand. "And here they are, the results from that day, I mean. I thought before you went ahead with today's...festivities, perhaps you should take a look at these."

Han took the flimsiplast from the man, eying him curiously. "I'm guessing Orakzai doesn't know you're doing this?"

Stanton straightened his shoulders and lifted his chin. "No, he does not. I know that you have your opinions about what I do here for this family, but don't abandon the possibility that I am doing the best I can under the circumstances."

"Alright," Han said as his eyes went down to the words and figures scattered on the small piece of flimsi. And there it was, plain as day, no need for Sasha to confirm nor deny. Watts was Eliza's father. Han took a moment to really absorb the information, it was like a pill traveling down his throat. What flashed through his mind would be hard to reflect on now, the feel of Sasha's hand in his own, the sound of Watts' laugh, Eliza's eyes looking up at him. It all traveled through him in one warm wave of emotions and then he swallowed, straightened up and, looking Stanton straight in the eye, handed the piece of flimsi back to him saying, "Thank you for this. I appreciate it."

"What, what will you do?" Stanton stammered.

"Nothing," Han replied, turning back to his dressing area and picking up his tie.

"Nothing? But-"

"Look," Han interrupted, turning back to face him. "I appreciate what you're trying to do here, but...I've made up my mind."

"There's more," Stanton blurted. "About the medication-"

"Solo?" A voice called from within Han's quarters, it was Orakzai.

Han looked at Stanton, the man looked positively frozen in horror. Han placed his hand on Stanton's shoulder, steadying him. "There won't be any more medication," Han said flatly, as he turned and headed toward the door.

* * *

Han blinked and Eliza laughed. The ceremony was over and all of the papers were signed. A photographer had just caught the father and daughter in a candid shot, the flash making stars dance against the back of Han's eyelids. Orakzai had inserted a last minute demand regarding the paparazzi and just what Han could say to the press. That particular conversation had gotten more heated than any of the other negotiations had, but in the end they had reached an agreement and Han posing for photos on his wedding day had been one of the concessions.

There had been a few carefully poised photos of him and Sasha but they had been limited and the spin would be that the couple had wanted a private ceremony and the few shots that were leaked to the press would be done as if against the family's wishes. The judge that married the two of them asked no questions about the bride's mental state, even as Sasha asked confused questions and Eliza helped her to sign her name in all the appropriate places. Han wondered how much the going rate was for a Corellian judge.

"Why did you adopt me?" Eliza asked. "That seemed silly, considering."

Han looked down at the young girl and all he could see was his daughter. "I just wanted everything to be legal," he replied. "A mother's rights are pretty well easy to decipher, but a father's aren't always as clear."

"You really hate my grandfather don't you?"

"Hate? No, I don't hate him," Han stated and Eliza looked down, appearing guilty. Han took his finger and lifted her chin up so that she looked at him. "And you don't either," he told her.

"I-"

"He does things," Han interrupted her. "I don't really understand why and I know you don't either. But he loves you and it's okay to not understand someone, to not agree with what they do, for them to hurt you and for you...to still love them." Han felt something constrict inside of him and he swallowed.

Eliza nodded her head, seeming to be soothed by his words.

"Now," Han said, his tone light. "I think you promised me a dance?"


	19. Chapter 15 - It's not my fault

_**Motives**_

"_It's not my fault." ~Han Solo_

Chapter 15

_Coruscant_

"…_famous freighter, the _Millennium Falcon_, seen leaving Corellia en route to an extended honeymoon. Destination? Unknown. But rumors say-"_

Leia flicked the small holomonitor to mute, turning her attention back to the scattered datafiles on the small desk of her home office.

"Did you know about this?" Luke asked, his eyes still on the now silent screen, watching intently as the _Millennium Falcon_ lifted off with its usual grace and flared away in a swathe of blue light.

"He called me beforehand, yes," Leia replied flatly.

"So, what's the deal exactly?"

Leia placed her palms on the desk and looked up at her brother. "The deal is: he's married."

"I got that much from the holonews. What's the real story?"

"The real story is Han has a daughter."

"I knew that, too."

"_And_…he married her mother. Reasons unknown, other than the usual. I don't know what else I can tell you."

Luke just stared at her awhile; dissecting her with those light blue lasers he called his eyes. She held her own under his gaze, which was quite a feat even for her, until he finally sighed and looked away. He ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture that reminded her of Han and she sighed as well.

"I don't really know, Luke," she stated. "Last I saw him, he told me things were complicated and that he needed time. And then I got a call saying he was getting married."

"And he didn't say why?"

She shook her head. "And I didn't ask."

His facial expression said what he did not.

She held up her hand. "You know Han, Luke. He doesn't do anything without a damn good reason, especially marrying someone that…," she stopped. She was going to say marrying someone that he doesn't love, but she wasn't sure of anything any longer. The vision of him dancing at the ball swirled through her mind. "I don't know why he did it. Maybe I should've asked, but I didn't and now it doesn't matter, because it's done."

"What will you do?"

"Move on," she answered quickly with a carefree shrug of her shoulders that she didn't feel. "I was elected to the Alderaanian Council and there's a lot of work to be done there. We're looking for an expanse of land to settle our refugees in, which is no small feat on its own. Anyway, we're courting several planets and solar systems. Hell, this one from Rydonni," she said as she picked up one of the datacards, "says that they'll consider a marital alliance with the sole survivor of the Alderaanian Monarchy. They're offering some of the best undeveloped lands they have available." She looked up at him and shrugged. "I had initially discarded it, but now who knows?"

"You're not a descendant of the Organas," Luke responded.

She had meant it all as a joke, so Luke's response stung on several levels. "I am a descendant of the Alderaanian Monarchy, biological Organa, or not," she replied a tad hotly. "Adoption _is_ recognized by our laws of succession, so don't think that you can take that away from me so easily."

"So you're serious about this?"

"_I wasn't_, until you took me seriously. For Sith's sake, Luke. Do you really think I'd do that?"

"Well, first Han and now, well, who knows anymore," he replied defensively. "And don't use that expression."

"What?" She asked, trying to remember what she had said that could've possibly offended him. _Sith's sake_. She rolled her eyes. "Lighten up, Luke. This is exactly what I don't need right now."

"Right, because not talking about it makes it all go away."

"You know what? Actually it does. And I like it that way. I have enough barve to deal with without you and your…," she trailed off, not knowing how to categorize Luke's familial obsessions – at least not without insulting him.

"Okay, fine," Luke submitted. "I didn't even mean to start…how 'bout this? I'm about to go away for a few weeks, why don't you come with?"

"That's totally impossible," she said, shaking her head as she tossed the datacard she had been holding aside and began to organize a totally different stack.

"Nothing's totally impossible," he retorted in that wise, Jedi sort of thing that he liked to slip into every now and then. She called it his Yoda-channeling and had made it very clear that she wasn't a fan.

"Okay, then," she replied. "It's irresponsible and careless. I have a lot to tend to here that I just can't drop at a moment's notice to fly around with you and adopt pet Jedi."

"They're not-"

She held her hand up. "I know they're not, Luke. Grow a sense of humor, for Sith's sake."

* * *

The Millennium Falcon_, en route to Kashyyyk_

"Okay," Eliza said. "How much longer do you have to live?"

Chewbacca chortled a brief answer as Han talked over him saying, "What kinda question is that to ask somebody?"

They were flying the _Millennium Falcon_ to Kashyyyk to drop Chewie off to his family. Orakzai had let the press spin it as a honeymoon trip and according to the paperwork Han had signed, he was unable to contradict them. Sasha and Eliza had come along for the ride, although the exact occupants of the freighter had been kept out of the news.

Sasha spent most of her time staring out of the cockpit, something about the swirl of hyperspace seemed to soothe her and Eliza had struck a bargain between Chewbacca and Han that she could ask the Wookiee any question she wanted and Han would have to translate accordingly. Of course, she only had Chewie's reactions to know whether or not her father was playing it clean. Han was not willingly cooperating, but Chewie had been unfailingly and, quite obviously very delightedly, keeping him honest.

Eliza folded her arms at her father. "Translation?"

Han fidgeted in his seat and glanced at Chewbacca. "He's got at least a hundred years left," he said quickly and Chewbacca grunted and poked him until Han added, "But like anyone else, he could die at any moment."

Eliza lifted her head up a little, in a manner that seemed to portray that she was appraising the both of them. Then she let her eyes travel around the walls of the lounge that they were seated in before she said, "Tell me your impression of the adventures you've had in this ship. Nothing detailed, just your overall experience. In a nutshell, you know?"

Chewbacca paused and lifted his nose in the air a moment before he spoke. Han found it endearing how he was catering to Eliza's whims so passionately. Then Chewie snorted and hooted and raised his hands up and as Han listened, his endearment quickly faded to null. "If you think I'm repeating that, you are a nutshell," Han said, glaring at his copilot.

"No fair," Eliza interjected as Chewie howled. "You made a deal! What did he say?"

Han gnashed his teeth together and turned to his daughter. She seemed so rapt with attention, so excited by this whole thing. What could it hurt, indulging the both of them? He was about to say goodbye to Chewbacca for goddess knew how long, he might as well let the big Wookiee have his fun.

Han drew in a deep breath and swallowed his pride as he quoted in a quick, semi-mumble, "He said: it mostly consisted of him flying the ship courageously as I held my hands up and said, 'It's not my fault'."

Eliza doubled over with laughter at this response and Chewbacca joined in with her.

"He does say that," the girl exclaimed, pointing at her father. "I've heard him."

Han did not find the situation amusing what-so-ever, even though his lips curled up just a little of their own accord. But after he couldn't take their amusement any longer, he commanded, "Next question." And Eliza fought once again to compose herself as she thought of something else to ask.

She seemed to get control of herself, even enough to look fairly pensive as she finally said, "What will you miss most about flying with Han?"

Chewbacca settled down as well upon hearing her question and he hooted several times and then raised his paws up, this time a little less dramatically, and chortled.

Han swallowed, the Wookiee's answer unexpectedly hitting him right square in the solar plexus. The damn oaf could be downright sentimental when he wanted to be.

"_Well?_" Eliza prompted as the trio sat in silence.

"He said," Han started, his voice a little choked. "The way he flew the ship courageously while I held my hands up and said, 'It's not my fault'."


	20. Chapter 16

_**Motives**_

"_What's done is done." ~Leia Organa_

Chapter 16 

_Coruscant_

Han walked out of the conference and turned toward the lifts. Leia stood in the hallway speaking to someone, her face in profile as Han approached. It took him a moment to realize or to convince himself that it was her. He had known that it would be only a matter of time before he ran into her. The new government, still in its early stages, had not yet spread out to all of the high rise buildings along this part of Coruscant where a senator from one world may never see an ambassador from another. Everyone who was anyone during this rebuild was haunting this one building for at least one meeting a day or another. Han had been attending meetings there every day for the past three days that he had been on the planet. It seemed fate had been tempted enough.

He approached her, close enough that he knew that she recognized him but not so close as to interrupt her conversation. She continued on for a moment before saying her goodbyes and turning to him. "Han," she said.

"Leia."

She looked beautiful. Where he felt worn and tired, she looked rested and refreshed. She smiled at him, it was as good as a vibroblade to the chest. "Congratulations on your marriage," she said.

"Thank you."

It looked as if she wanted him to say something, but he was content in just studying her; the slope of her plump cheek, the line of her neck, her wide, brown eyes. All these things that he thought he would never see again, knew that he didn't deserve to notice any longer. He had wished that he would never see her again, that he would never have to be subjected to this closeness without touch, words without depth, her without him. Knowing the decisions he most recently made would deny him this woman was a lot different than standing before this woman and denying himself her. Each lingering look was like spice to a reformed addict and the longer they stood there the more he was no longer reformed.

"Will you be attending the dinner this evening?" She asked.

"Yes."

She took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for her next words. "Can I look forward to meeting your wife there?"

The word stung and he could tell that it felt funny coming out of her mouth as well. He opened his mouth to counter. He had no wife. A wife was someone to share dreams with, someone to hold, to admire, to love. _She_ was his wife more than anyone else. But she wasn't. That was a certain fact. But it was hell being reminded of it. "No," he finally said. "She's not feeling well."

"I'm sorry," she replied and she looked genuinely concerned. "Is it the parkive flu? I hear it's going around."

How could she show compassion for the woman that for all she knew was sharing Han's bed? The thought made him physically ill. "No, I don't know. But I don't think so."

"Well, I wish her a speedy recovery, whatever it is."

"Thank you." They shared a silence again and he wondered why she didn't ask him. He wanted to tell her everything, to explain. But the words would not come.

"Is your daughter well?" Leia asked.

A wife that wasn't a wife, a daughter that wasn't a daughter. He clenched his teeth. "Yes, she's here, too."

"I'm," she stopped, staring into his eyes as if trying to find him hiding within himself.

He crouched inwardly, hiding and her expression registered something. What was it?

"I'm happy for you, Han," she finally said.

He saw sadness, pity, regret. He would've preferred anger. "Thank you," he replied and then he turned and left.

* * *

Han did not attend the dinner as he had said he would. Leia was sure that it was because of their earlier meeting. She couldn't fathom that seeing him again was going to be any easier. He had probably reached the same miserable conclusion and steered clear of her. The galaxy was a big place. The sooner he returned to Corellia the better their chances of never meeting again would be. It was hard to think of moving on when the hardest thing to leave behind was standing in the way. She had done it with Alderaan. Acknowledge it but don't analyze it or dwell on it. The thing with Vader was the same way. Move on, that is what she had told Luke and that was what she intended to do. She finished her meal, brokering a few deals for supplies and temporary housing along the way. Then, during after dinner drinks, shebowed out as early as possible.

It was late, but the lights of Coruscant made days or nights irrelevant. Her shadow accompanied her as she walked between the lights overhead, first stretching out in front of her, then shrinking to a small puddle beside her before trailing behind her to magically meet her up ahead again. Leia's heels clicked against the duracrete as she concentrated on the ground below her and her constanct, silent companion. The hem of her dress pressed against her thighs as she walked at her usual brisk pace. It was for rushing to meetings, hurrying to catch calls, struggling to keep pace with taller, longer-legged companions and...for running away.

Somewhere between the international bank and a high-end furniture store, she sensed that someone was following her. Luke said she had the Force, but she ignored him. Whatever it was it made her clutch her handbag more tightly beneath her arm and scan the path ahead of her for hideaways and exits. When she reached the atrium of her building she was downright winded and more than a little spooked. Once inside, she turned around, shaking her head and chuckling a bit at herself as she peered out the window to the empty street and let out a heavy breath of relief.

When she turned around to head toward the lift she caught a glimpse of him. She almost dismissed it entirely, walking a few paces before stopping to turn around again. And there he was, standing outside of her building, watching. She sighed again. Nothing good could come from seeing him here. For a moment she considered ignoring him and retreating to her apartment alone, locking the door behind her. But the galaxy wasn't all that big of a place. Alderaan had caught up to her, Vader was tight at her heels and Han was standing on the other side of a thick sheet of transparisteel.

He seemed to sense her relent as he opened the door and strode in toward her. An unreadable mask on his face. The tight set of his jaw, the rigid lines of his body and the soft set of his eyes made him look like a dam struggling not to break.

"What're you doing here?" She asked before he had even stopped walking.

"I came to see you. To talk."

"We could've done that at dinner. Now it's," she stopped, glancing around her lobby. "It's late."

"You never asked me why."

She shook her head, gods just wishing he would shut up and go away. She didn't want to hear _why_, it didn't really matter. She knew that from Alderaan, was learning that from Vader and she didn't need another lesson from him. The whys never end up mattering. Yet...she had started this whole thing with reasons of her own. She sighed. "It doesn't matter."

"I've never touched her," he whispered, leaning in toward her. "I want you to know that. I _need_ you to know that. And I've never stopped loving you."

She nearly laughed. It would've been totally inappropriate, but she couldn't help herself. In how many more ways could her life emulate a bad holodrama? It was beginning to be too much. She stepped back a bit, letting her clutch fall into her hands and holding it in front of her while she watched him. The look of absolute pain and mortification on his face did a fairly decent job of wiping the remnants of her giddiness away and she shook her head and said, "Let's go up to my apartment."

* * *

She walked into her apartment, threw her clutch down on the entry table and cued the lights. She heard the door swish shut behind Han, but she didn't look back to make sure that he was there. She felt him, she heard him and that was enough. Kicking her heels off, she stepped down an inch or two and headed toward her small liquor cabinet. She poured one drink and then held it up to him with a questioning gesture. When he shook his head in the negative, she placed the cap on the liquor bottle and walked across the room to sit on a small chair, carrying the drink with her.

Han walked around the small table and sat across from her, looking like an animal that had been beaten down by his master. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees with his hands folded together. "She isn't well," he said, without preamble.

"You told me-"

"No, she really isn't well. She lives in a home. Under a doctor's care." He edged forward even more onto the edge of the seat, seeming to try to place as much emphasis on his words as possible. "Orakzai, he drugged her that night, that night you saw us dancing. The side effects of the drugs, Leia, you should've seen."

She held the drink in her hand untouched. She found a little too late that she did not have the stomach for it. It all felt like a dream, the thoughts she had, the words she spoke, as if they all belonged to somebody else, to a ghost. "And so you married her?"

"To get legal rights," he said and then seemed to stop himself from saying more. Or perhaps he thought that was enough? He scooted back a little in his seat, looking anxious. "I can't make you understand."

"What's done is done," she said, just wishing he would leave now so that she could relinquish this façade, release this ghost that was holding her together, answering his questions, responding to his words so that she, Leia, could just fall apart. "I knew you had your reasons and…who am I to judge?"

He moved quickly, coming around the table to sit on it and place himself directly in front of her. "Leia," he said, pleading.

She put her drink down on the side table and looked at him. This wasn't working, it had been a mistake. "I think you should go."

He leaned toward her and grabbed her, like he had done in that bathroom – his intentions all too clearly written across his face. Their relationship had always been this way. A little lopsided when it came to conversation. They fought with words but they made up with their bodies. She was quick, placing her her hand on his chest and straightening her arms in between them. She could feel the rapid thud of his heart, see the pure longing in his eyes and she struggled not to fall into this all too familiar trap. To feel him against her, to let him take her and let it chase everything else away. It would, she knew it most certainly would - at least for a little while. The temptation was extreme. "No," she said, perhaps using that latent Force strength that Luke swore she had. It had to be something, she was drawing it from somewhere deep. "No matter what the circumstances are, you're married. And I don't want you like this."

They stayed like that for a long moment, he boring a gaze into her that could melt a moon and she barely managing to hold her own. But she did. She held her ground, willing her arms not to shake, not to bend or give way. Truth was, it wasn't the Force, she knew that now. It was him. Nothing that he had said thus far had been enough to sway her. She didn't know if anything would've been enough, didn't know exactly what she had wanted to hear, but she was sure that what she had heard certainly wasn't it. She had expected something more. Something she could sympathize with, she could grasp. Something that could place her in his shoes and perhaps admit that she might've done the same. And it just wasn't there. She knew it still would not have allowed her to take him, to become his mistress, but she could've at least _understood_.

Han once again looked stricken, but he retained the wherewithal to at least surrender gracefully. He sat back and she dropped her hand down. He took a deep breath and ran his hand down his face. "There's so much I wanna say to you."

She held her breath. It was the first time that he sounded like his old self and not some stranger telling a story. "Then why don't you?"

"It wouldn't make it any easier," he said. "It wouldn't change things."

"I can't see it being much harder than this," she replied. "You had a daughter. I could accept that. I even entertained several different scenarios on how we could've made that work. But this? _This_, Han? You _married_ someone and for not very good reasons from what I'm hearing. If you're holding something back, you'd do better to tell me now, because…I just don't know anymore."

"Leia." He grabbed her hands this time and she looked down at them large and dark against her small, pale ones. "Trust me when I tell you this is as good as it gets."

She shook her head, looking back up to him. "Then I feel sorry for you. I mean it, I really do."

He swallowed, looking physically ill. What was going through him, through his mind, body and soul, she could never say. But what she witnessed, like an avalanche within his psyche, she would never, ever forget it. "I better go," he finally said.

She slowly drew her hands back as if just realizing that they were being held by a stranger. He did nothing to stop her as she said, "Yes, you should."


	21. Chapter 17

_**Motives**_

_"I don't want to lose him." ~Eliza Orakzai_

Chapter 17

_Coruscant_

He was not married, that was what Han had been telling himself, not by any standards that he recognized anyway. It had simply been a sheet of flimsiplast, an agreement. A binding contract, to be sure, but not one of love. Yet, little had he realized that that was exactly what he had been signing away when he entered into that little agreement. Seeing Leia again had confirmed it. He might not have been signing _into_ love, but he had definitely been signing it away. Damn it all, but the realization hurt. It shouldn't've been so godsdamn surprising; it shouldn't have hit him like that as if out of nowhere. But somehow it had.

Han was in a daze as he stepped off of the lifts from Leia's apartment and so he did not see a person right in front of him until he had ran smack dab into them. It was a thin female and he grabbed her to keep from her from falling and him from landing on top of her as he apologized, saying, "Excuse me. I'm sorry."

At first his mind refused to piece together the fragments of information that he was being given. He was in Leia's apartment building, late at night and he had walked into a strange girl. But the girl in his arms looked like Eliza. But Eliza was back at their hotel. This couldn't be Eliza. But it was. It was Eliza.

"What're you doin' here?" He finally sputtered as it all came together.

"Looking for you," she said. "Grandfather has been frantically trying to get in touch with you. Have you received his messages?"

Han reflexively palmed the communicator from off of his hip. He had set it to silent. The little device was flashing furiously with unread messages and missed holos. There were several from Orazkai and Stanton and several more from the facility where Sasha was residing here on Corsucant. "How?" He said looking back up to Eliza, his mind still catching up to these new events. "How did you find me here?"

She lifted her chin and shuffled on her feet, looking the perfect mixture of embarrassment and defiance. "I followed you."

Han furrowed his eyebrows and looked back down at the messages. Something was wrong with Sasha. Something serious enough that he knew that he didn't want to alarm Eliza with it.

"You said you were only going to be a few minutes," the young girl continued. "_Remember?_"

"Yes," Han replied absently as the words 'critical' and 'emergency' repeated themselves far too many times within the texts. "Uh," he said, looking up and around, trying to formulate a plan of action.

"What's going on?" Eliza asked, rising on her tiptoes and straining to see the words on Han's communicator. "Is it mother?"

"No," Han replied, closing the device and slipping it back into its case. "It's about a trade agreement with the Tarlok Hegemony," he lied. "It looks like I'll need to renegotiate before tomorrow's meeting. I'm going to have to go back to the office."

He grabbed Eliza by the arm and began to lead her toward the exit. "_Now?_" She replied, trudging alongside of him unwillingly. "But what about me?"

Han stopped outside of the tall building. The streets of Coruscant where bright, but it was the middle of the night. He didn't want to leave her alone, even in the safe, expensive hotel they were staying in. It just didn't feel right. But he couldn't take her with him. He had a sitter/tutor that came and spent time with her during the day, showing Eliza around Coruscant and ensuring she didn't get bored or into any trouble. He took the communicator out of its holster again and started skimming through his contacts to find the sitter's name.

"I'll see if Ginny can come," Han said as he tapped on her name and began to consider the wording of his message. Then he stopped. He didn't know this woman well enough to call her in the middle of the night. Besides, he did know that she was married and had kids of her own. How would this look? He looked back to the building that they had just walked out of.

"Where were you?" Eliza asked, following his gaze. "Who lives here?"

"An old friend," Han said, guiding her back inside the building. "I know she's awake. I'll see if you can stay with her."

"_She?_" Eliza replied. "Who is she?"

"An old friend, like I said," Han replied. "She's the representative from Alderaan, we work together," he lied again.

"Princess Leia?" Eliza asked as they entered the lift.

Han was only momentarily surprised that she knew the name. "Yes," he said without further comment and he found it odd that Eliza found nothing more to say as well.

* * *

When Leia walked toward her door in answer to the late night bell, she was preparing herself for another confrontation. Just not the right one, it would seem. She could only stare in complete bewilderment at the sight before her. Han and what she was assuming could only be his young daughter.

"I'm sorry to do this to you, but I had nowhere else to go," Han was saying. And for his part, he at least looked sufficiently penitent and more than slightly addled. The daughter only looked distrustful and more than slightly miffed. Before Leia could speak, Han continued, "I have to rework that trade proposal we were discussing earlier with the Tarlok Hegemony and I didn't want to leave Eliza alone."

Leia hadn't the foggiest idea what Han was talking about but she was savvy enough to know to play along. "Oh," she replied dumbly, apparently she just was not savvy enough to think of anything intelligent to say.

"Would you mind if Eliza stayed here," Han continued. "Just for an hour or so?"

Leia looked up into his face; there was an expression that she was sure she was supposed to be able to read. He widened his eyes at her, pleading and she just stood there and stared at him standing in the hallway.

"Eliza this is Leia," Han finally said, looking down at the young girl. It was strange for Leia to see him like this, fatherly, but she had little time to digest it. He looked back over to Leia, his eyes still wide and pleading. "Leia, this is my daughter, Eliza."

"It's nice to meet you, Eliza," Leia replied as she studied the girl standing in the hallway. _Standing in the hallway_. It finally hit her. "Oh, I'm sorry. Eliza, would you like to come in?"

Eliza frowned. If Leia hadn't noticed before, it was impossible to miss now: the girl was outright glaring at her. The young girl then folded her arms across her chest and replied, "I just love it when people present me with options that aren't really there."

"_Eliza_." Han scolded, looking back at Leia with apologies written all over his face.

"Oh right, yes," Eliza replied unfolding her arms and placing a smile on her face, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "I would love to come in. Thank you so much, really." She brushed past Leia and disappeared into the apartment.

"Sorry," Han said quickly with a quick half-shrug. "She's a teenager."

"Right. I think I skipped over this part."

"Then this oughta be fun for you."

_Fun?_ Leia thought, nothing about this would she ever describe as fun. "You should get going," she told him, in a hollow rendition of their earlier conversation. This time it held a lot less bite. She did not want Han to leave. The creature that had just been ushered into her apartment was one that she wasn't quite sure she was ready to contend with, especially not alone. Grand Moff Tarkin? Sure. Darth Vader? Check. Han's daughter? Um, well, no. Besides, was he even going to tell her why-

Han interrupted her thoughts. "I'll explain everything later, I just…" He trailed off, looking lost himself.

Leia took a deep breath. "It's alright, Han," she finally said, shaking her head and pushing his arm with her hand so that he would turn around and leave her.

"Okay, right," he replied, taking backward steps and walking away slowly from her as if he were still unsure about leaving the two women alone. "I'll be back," he promised.

"Take your time. We'll be fine," she lied.

* * *

"So, this is awkward."

Leia looked at the young girl, already taller than her and oddly familiar with her hazel eyes and strong jaw. "It doesn't have to be," she replied, walking into the living area and picking up the drink she had poured earlier. Her apartment was small enough so that she could step around a counter and empty the drink into a sink without taking her eyes off of Eliza. Of course, Eliza hadn't taken her eyes off of Leia either.

"I'm not oblivious, you know," Eliza said. "I know exactly who you are and what you mean to my father."

Leia gripped the edge of the counter with her hands. This was not like any opponent she had ever faced before. This was a child. Han's child! She couldn't unleash biting remarks or hurl insults at her face. It was like fighting with a blindfold and her arms tied behind her back. "I'm a good friend-"

"You were more than that."

"_Were_, yes," Leia said, giving honesty a whirl. "And now we're just good friends." And there went the honesty.

"That's why he snuck over here in the middle of the night?"

Leia raised her eyebrow at her but did not respond.

"I followed him," Eliza admitted smoothly as she looked around the apartment. "I didn't know where _here_ was. I hadn't seen you. I just knew he had come here and then..."

Leia thought of her own walk earlier that evening. Han following her with apparently his daughter following him. "You shouldn't've been out alone."

Eliza shrugged. "He didn't mind leaving me alone to sneak over here. And now all of a sudden, it's somehow different?"

"Earlier it was for a brief meeting," Leia replied, releasing her grip on the counter and skirting back around it and into the living room. "Obviously now, he doesn't know how long he'll be."

"Because he has an emergency business meeting," she said with air quotes on the last words. "Another lie. I really thought that he was going to be different. I've really been trying not to see the signs. But I just can't help it."

Leia remained silent. The girl's cockiness was fading and a clear picture of vulnerability was painting itself in.

"It's really messed up," Eliza continued. "They've all lied to me. Used me for their own agendas. But I can't make myself hate them. Somehow I always find an excuse for them, whether it's for their benefit or mine. Is that wrong? Shouldn't I just give up?"

Leia had a small inkling into what might be this girl's childhood, knowing what she knew of President Orakzai. It was ironic, she was the last person to council someone on forgiveness of fatherly sins. But she did anyway. "No," Leia answered. "They're your family and you should try your best to love them. Usually...what they're doing is for the best and they're doing it in the best way they know how. Right or wrong. And...and they're the only ones you'll get."

Eliza made a sound, like a laugh and cough. She folded her arms across her chest and Leia recognized the body signs as she readied herself for the next volley. But just because she recognized the signs, didn't mean that she could prepare herself for what she was about to hear.

"Han isn't my father," Eliza stated flatly and then stood there as if in immense anticipation (and perhaps enjoyment) of seeing Leia's reaction.

For a moment Leia couldn't comprehend what she had just heard. Or convince herself that she had heard it right. "I'm sorry, what?"

Eliza looked surprised and her body language stiffened into a more defensive posture. "I thought you knew. I thought maybe," she stopped, looking around the apartment for a moment before coming back to Leia. "I thought maybe he came here tonight to tell you."

Leia shook her head, the shock slowly wearing off from this conversation and all the implications flooding in like rushing water through a gutter pipe.

Eliza bit her bottom lip looking as if she had bet all her chips on the wrong bantha. "That doesn't make sense. If he didn't… He must, I mean, I think he knows," she said. "I mean, _I_ didn't say anything. But my mother _has_ to have. I mean, she talks about it all the time."

The child was looking more childlike by the moment. Leia studied her and asked carefully, "Talks about what?"

"How _Watts_ is my father," Eliza said as if Leia's question was unnecessary. "Watts was...he was best friends with-"

Leia interrupted her. "I know the name," she said, squeezing her hand around her neck and pacing around the apartment. The child is not Han's? And yet he... "This doesn't make any sense."

"I think," Eliza said, but then she stopped.

Leia continued pacing for a bit as she thought…gods she thought of everything! Was this all some sort of...? What had she done? What had Han done? Her brain hurt trying to process it all. Then she realized that Eliza hadn't finished speaking and she stopped and turned to the young girl.

Eliza looked scared and apologetic as if all of this was somehow her fault. She was holding the four fingers of one hand in the clenched fist of the other and pulling at them nervously. "I think I know mostly...how it all happened."

Oh dear gods, Leia thought. Did she even want to know? The words were barely through her brain before Leia whispered, morbid curiosity beating out all else. "How?"

Eliza swallowed nervously and continued wrenching her hands together. "He came thinking I was his daughter. I could see it in his face. I was…," Eliza stopped and shook her head, looking guilty again. "Feeling spiteful," she continued beginning to pace a bit as she talked. "So I played along. But then, you know? He was really nice and I've never had a father before." The girl shrugged innocently and then went on. "After he met mother, he looked at me different, like he was trying to judge whether I was his or not. I _knew_ she had told him. I just _knew_. Goddess," she sobbed a bit and stopped pacing. "I kept telling myself that it was my imagination, I couldn't imagine that he wouldn't ask me. And I…I just wanted him to be mine. So as long as he didn't say anything, I didn't say anything either."

Leia sat down absently, only by sheer luck finding a cushioned couch behind her. She rested her forearms on the tops of her thighs and slouched down in complete contemplation. Her eyes had left Eliza's and she was just staring into the nothingness. She thought of Han's words, about how his half-truths earlier had been as good as it was going to get. He hadn't been lying. The child was not even his!

"And then," Eliza was continuing, growing more upset as she talked. "When that happened to my mother, here on Coruscant. She nearly _died_. I begged him to protect her, to protect _me_. I didn't really think about it. Didn't think about him _marrying_ her. I thought maybe he would just run away with us in his ship. But when they told me. I knew exactly why. And he did. He made them draw up adoption papers for me. I even asked him why." Eliza covered her mouth when she was done as if to hide the fact that the words had come out of her own lips.

It was all coming together. Leia, trancelike, replied in a whisper, "Because he had no legal rights," she repeated the sentence straight from her earlier conversation with Han but this time she added, "to _you_." Her throat constricted. Her chest felt hollow and the palms of her hands were clammy. This, this was all too much. But still there was so much missing. So many questions that even Eliza didn't seem to have the answers for.

Eliza shook her head feverishly as she sniffled, she seemed relieved to finally be heard, to be unburdened from her secrets and finally to be understood. "My grandfather did _all of this_," she said heatedly. "I may have sat, did, _said_ nothing, but he orchestrated it all!"

"But why?" Leia asked softly, no accusation, no anger or hurt, just truly dumbfounded by it all.

Eliza shrugged and sat down herself, plopping into the seat as if in defeat. "I don't know."

And in that confession Leia knew that Eliza had told her everything she knew. She had mapped out all the lies and events for as much as they had pertained to and affected her. It would be up to the other players to shed light on the rest. How much did Han know? For as far as Eliza's story went, he could not know at all. But he must. His behavior, the whole thing when considered in its entirety only made sense if he did. What had he done? What had he been through? Could everything with Orakzai been a lie? A setup?

What had she done?

The pair sat in silence for a short while, Leia absorbing it all and Eliza catching her breath from her emotional ordeal. Then Leia heard the girl speak again as she whispered, "I'm sorry, but…I'm glad he did." Leia looked up to her and Eliza shrugged again, pitifully. "For whatever the reasons, I'm glad my grandfather brought him to me. I love him like a father. I do. I know I was pretending to be angry with him earlier, but that was mainly because…well because I didn't like you." She looked down at her hands. "I mean, you know, I was threatened by you."

Leia shook her head and gave the girl a comforting smile. "It's okay."

The girl looked up at Leia, seemingly surprised by the forgiveness in her words and her tone. Her face brightened just a little and she said, "He tells me all about Watts sometimes. Working it into the conversation as if he's telling me the story to tell me about himself. But I know. He's trying to tell me about my real father. How sweet is that?" She covered her mouth again, but this time to catch a sob. She shook her head. "I don't want to lose him."

Leia felt like crying, hearing her own fears echoed back to her. She looked at Eliza, sadness and acceptance in her eyes and said, "You won't."


	22. Chapter 18

_**Motives**_

"_Yeah, she is." ~Han Solo_

Chapter 18 

_Coruscant General Hospital_

"She has what?" Han asked; certain he had not heard Orakzai correctly.

"The virus," Orakzai repeated, turning away from Han as he continued, "the Empire's weapon. She was infected."

Han studied the man. Strong and proud when he had known him in his early years, Orakzai looked worn and beaten. He hadn't noticed it before, but now it was too obvious not to. Yet, every time Han met with the man it seemed that he got another piece of information about the web of lies that he had been sucked into. He couldn't find it in himself to feel sorry for him, no matter how contrite he appeared. "And you knew this the whole time? Even while you let me marry her?"

Orakzai turned to face Han. "I let you marry her because of this."

"To what? Have someone to take care of Eliza?"

"No," Orakzai shook his head solemnly as he replied, "that would've taken care of itself. This was for Sasha."

Han ran his fingers through his hair. "I don't understand. I don't understand anything you do."

"I assure you there's a reason for it all," Orakzai replied and then coughed as he sat down on a small chair in the private room. "And you'll know it all in good time."

"Why me?" Han said, feeling exhausted. "You've gotta know that I know that Eliza isn't mine."

Orakzai shook his head looking unsurprised and silently confirming what Han had just said was true. "That is something, I'm afraid I cannot discuss with you."

"You son-of-a-bitch. What is there to discuss?" Han spat. "I'm sick and tired of your games. This is my life you've been playing around with. Why hasn't she been sick until now? Can you tell me that?" He pointed at the prone figure of his wife lying in the hospital bed. "Why hasn't she succumbed to the virus already like all the others?"

Orakzai lifted his face to meet Han's glare. "There is an antidote."

"An antidote?" Han repeated. "Then why? Why all the-"

"It was given to me in a very limited supply," Orakzai interrupted. "It was the Empire's way of letting us know that they could cure it if we were to cooperate." The president ran his hands along the tops of his legs, wiping his palms. "We gave it to the infected citizens…for awhile. And then, when all negotiations broke off, we…kept the rest."

"And you watched your citizens die in the streets like animals."

"Let's not forget that this was the Empire's doing. Not mine. There was only so much medication, everyone would've all died anyway. This way was...no different, if not a bit selfish."

Han narrowed his eyes at him, surprised that he could be shocked by anything this man said anymore. "Can't you synthesize more?"

Orakzai raised his palm in the air in a helpless gesture that asked 'don't you think we've tried?'.

Han cursed under his breath. "Then...then why is she sick now?" Han asked, looking again at his wife. "Why didn't you continue to give her the antidote?"

Orakzai's answer was cold and flat. "You refused."

Han's heart fell down to his toes. He shut his eyes, realizing what the president was implying. "The medicine," he whispered.

"The medicine," Orakzai repeated. "Yes. The antidote had an unusual affect on my daughter. It gave her her mind back as well as prolonging her life. The…side effects were barely negligible in the beginning. But they have grown worse. As you well know."

"The same medicine I promised Eliza I wouldn't let anyone give to her mother again is the same medicine that has been keeping her alive?"

Orakzai nodded.

"So when I married her to protect her from you. To stop you from giving her that medicine…"

"It was…a necessary evil."

"Which part? Lying to me or giving her the medicine?"

"Both," Orakzai replied. He did not look guilty or ashamed by his actions.

Han just stood there soaking in the situation for awhile before he could think of where to go next. He was helpless, stuck, there was nowhere to go but forward, even though it felt as if the more he pushed forward the further down the hole he fell. "So what are my options?"

Orakzai sighed heavily and pushed himself to stand. He walked over to his daughter's bedside and gently picked up her hand and held it in his own. "She's dying," he said. "Either the disease or the medicine will eventually kill her. I'll leave it up to you to decide. Although I think you'll find that the course of action that I had been pursuing is the more palatable of the two."

Han blew out another long breath and turned to look out of the hospital window. "Does Eliza…know any of this?"

He heard Orakzai whisper from behind him, "No."

* * *

It was a long walk back to Leia's apartment. Han felt spent, deflated. He had spoken with Sasha's doctors and they had decided to continue to administer the antidote to her. Although the side effects were severe, they only lasted for a short time and she would be comfortable other than that. Without the antidote she would begin to break out in blisters and boils as her body ate itself to death from the inside out. It would be painful and horrific to witness. There really was no choice.

Now he would just have to tell his daughter that he had broken his promise to her and also break the news to her that her mother was dying. Being her father, even with everything happening the way that it was, had been an enjoyable experience. He genuinely liked the young girl and although the betrayal his best friend had perpetrated still hurt, he didn't mind thinking that he was taking care of Watts' daughter for him. But this, this conversation that he would have to have with Eliza, this would not be easy.

He had been so caught up in wondering how he would talk to Eliza that Han hadn't even thought about seeing Leia again. He was too exhausted to formulate any more stories or lies, so as the lift took him up to her apartment, he resigned himself to just tell her the entire truth. He was surprisingly calm with the decision as he walked up to her doorway and rang the bell.

The door opened quickly and for a moment the pair of adults just stood there and stared at each other until Leia finally moved to the side and whispered, "Come on in."

She looked different. She had changed into a more casual outfit but it was more than that. Her face had lost the hard edge that it had earlier and she almost looked as if she felt sorry for him now. He entered her apartment without a word, not sure where he wanted to begin.

"How'd everything go?" She asked, but she was not accusing, not pressing. She was exuding patience and compassion as if she already knew what had happened to him within the last few hours, but he knew that that was impossible.

"Not too good," he replied.

"Would you like some tea?"

He nodded his head, confused by this about face. He had been preparing himself to tell her everything, to let her pull all the information out of him that he had. But she was not asking, she didn't even appear to want to know. It was as if she was content with him just being there and nothing else really mattered any longer. "Where's Eliza?" He asked, looking about the living room.

"I turned a movie on in my room," Leia said, walking back towards him with a steaming cup of tea in her hands. "I went to the 'fresher to wash my face and change and by the time I came back she was sleeping." She handed the cup to Han. "I tucked her in. She's in my bed."

Leia had tilted her head toward a closed door on the other side of the room, apparently her bedroom and Han looked over to it. "Thank you," he replied as he took the cup and hazarded a sip of the hot liquid.

It felt good going down his throat. Leia sat down across from him, resting her elbows on the tops of her knees and leaning toward him. It also felt good to have her looking at him like that, intent and concerned, instead of whatever it was that she had been radiating earlier. He sat back against the cushions, sinking into the lounger. The pressure in his chest was lifting and he gave his body a little time to adjust to this slowly evolving change.

"Did she give you any trouble?" He asked.

Leia smiled. "No."

Han set the tea down, studying the woman in front of him. There weren't words to describe his feelings for her. The trust, the respect, the absolute love that he felt for her. He didn't know where he should begin, only that he had to begin somewhere. "Leia-"

"Han, look," she interrupted. "I can't pretend that I'm not responsible for this place that you've found yourself in-"

"Leia-"

"No, let me finish. I want you to know that...I still don't know how to handle you, you being someone else's..."

Han sat up. "I'm not."

"But you are," she said, more sad than angry. "But I still..."

It didn't seem like she wanted to talk about any of it now, but Han had too much inside not to let something spill out of him. "Sasha's dying," he said, running his hand over his face and sighing. "_And_...Eliza doesn't know and I've gotta find some way to tell her."

"Oh, Han," she said, scooting off of her seat and coming to sit beside him on the lounger.

She placed her hand on his knee and he stared at it there as if it were a dream. He placed his hand over it and squeezed, lifting it up and studying it, rubbing his thumb along her palm. It was a solemn moment that they shared in silence. Perhaps it was some sort of peace or truce between them. He could only hope so. He brought her hand up close to his mouth and she wrapped her fingers so that her knuckles were presented to him and he pulled them closer and kissed them.

"Thank you for taking care of her," he said.

"Whatever you need. I'd like to help."

He wanted to tell her what he needed, what he really wanted but he knew that she knew. He dropped her hand and reached out to cup her cheek, stroking his thumb along the smooth, plump skin. She did the same with the hand that he had abandoned, placing her palm against his face and running her thumb along the stubble. And slowly, but with clearly steady progress, their faces migrated toward each other and they kissed.

It wasn't like the last time they had kissed, the desperate, heady rush of the clandestine meeting in the bathroom. It was slow and deliberate, sensual and healing, all tender brushes of their lips and tentative swirls of their tongues. But it was brief. He didn't know which one of them had stopped it, it seemed consensual and deliberate the smooth way that they both withdrew. With their lips parted they pressed their foreheads together and stayed that way for a long moment.

"I better go," Han finally whispered. He was starting to feel the full extent of his exhaustion and he knew that he should get Eliza home. He also knew that this could not go any further, or at least that it shouldn't.

Leia's answer was a gentle nod of her head while still remaining pressed against him.

She closed her eyes and he pulled away, waiting a moment before he pushed himself up to stand. He held his hand out to her and helped her up, following her silently to the closed door across the room. Leia's bedroom was dark, only the light of the holoviewer flickering in the corner provided him with any visual. Leia walked deftly to the side of the bed where a lump was evident underneath the covers. Han followed, looking down on the head resting on the pillows.

He bent down, ran a finger along the girl's face. "Is her hair braided?" He asked, looking over to Leia, her face shadowed from the faint light.

"Yes, she asked me to," she replied. Han could just make out a tender smile on her face. "She's…," Leia continued. "Something else."

Han looked back down at the child sleeping in the large bed. "Yeah, she is."


	23. Chapter 19 - Negotiating

_A/N: Because I just don't think I've gotten y'all riled up enough. ;-)_

* * *

_**Motives**_

"_I'm quite fond of negotiating." ~Princess Leia_

Chapter 19 

_Coruscant_

Leia entered the lift of her office building, she was heading down to the lower level to catch a hovercab and grab a bite to eat. She held the door open for another Alderaanian councilmember, Raiker Denton. He was an old associate of her father, though she had very little dealings with him in the past. The older man was with someone that Leia did not recognize and the two men joined her in the lift indicating they were headed to the same floor.

"Thank you, Princess," Raiker said as the door to the lift slid shut. "Have you met Valwyn K'ntarr?"

Leia looked to both men. "You're welcome and no, I have not."

"Valwyn K'ntarr, Princess Leia," Raiker said, introducing the pair. "Princess Leia, Valwyn K'ntarr of the Rydonni System."

The Rydonni System, Leia repeated it to herself. That was the Royal House that sought an alliance with the surviving Alderaanians via a marriage contract, more specifically a marriage contract with _her_. But the council had discussed and dismissed the offer. Alderaan had never participated in forced or arranged marriages and Leia had made it clear that she was not on the market. Of course, that had been before...

Without missing a beat, she shook the stranger's hand and said, "Nice to meet you." And then she turned toward the lift doors and waited for her stop.

Her mind was so wrapped up in the details of the previous night's events that she hardly gave the two men in the lift with her a second thought. Whatever Denton was up to, he would have to handle it himself. She was busy thinking of the conversation she had shared with Eliza and the time she had spent with the young girl after all that dirty laundry had been aired. She couldn't blame Han for wanting to protect the girl. She was so innocent, if not sadly jaded. It wasn't hard to see what kind of life she had been made to live and to sympathize with her for it.

Leia had a hard time not comparing her own life to Eliza's. Had Leia been exposed to the dirty truth that was her childhood, wouldn't she have turned out a tad differently? Luke, too for that matter? Maybe Bail Organa and Ben Kenobi had done the right thing. Yet, it was all still lies and deceit no matter how you sliced it. It was hard to deny that. In both cases, Eliza's and Leia's, the grown women could only look back on their childhoods as little more than a deception. The main difference would be that Leia had been "protected" from the truth of her father's duplicity throughout all of her childhood. It made it hard to know what was real and what was not. Every memory was now tainted with doubt. Whereas Eliza seemed fully aware of her grandfather's ways and had adapted as best as she could to deal with him, thus her jadedness. Leia had a hard time deciding which fate was worse.

As the doors to the lift opened, she shrugged her shoulders, resolving herself that on that particular topic she might just never know. She moved on. Thinking about how she had spent the night in a restless slumber wondering how she would broach the topic of Eliza's parentage with Han. It seemed a particularly sensitive subject for him as Leia could well imagine. His silence, she had decided, was mainly for her protection. But she held enough guilt of her own regarding the entire affair to wonder just how much she should allow him to shield her. And then there was also the matter of Eliza. She had confessed her role to Leia, however slight, in the deception. The young girl had known all along and had allowed Han to remain in the dark even as he married her mother. This was something she felt for sure Han did not know about. How would that knowledge affect Han and his relationship with his 'daughter'? It seemed he might be better off not knowing, yet, Leia did not want to compound the already sordid web of lies with new omissions of her own.

As she stepped out onto the streets of Coruscant with the two men from the lifts along with her, Leia still had yet to determine her best course of action. The councilman Denton stepped out toward the traffic in the street and raised his hand to hail a hover cab. Then, as if just remembering something, he snapped his fingers together and said, "I'm sorry." He dropped his hand down and turned to the other man. "I just remembered that I have another meeting and I will not be able to join you for lunch. Princess?" He then looked to Leia. "Aren't you heading out to grab a bite? Would you mind very terribly if Valwyn tagged along?"

Leia smelled a rat and a trap but she handled it calmly. "Of course not," she replied and it was on the tip of her tongue to press Raiker on just what important meeting he had forgotten but she resisted. She could handle herself with the Rydonnis and perhaps it would be better to nip all of it in the bud anyway if members of the Alderaanian Council were entertaining the Rydonni's overtures against her wishes.

"Thank you," Denton replied. "Now if you'll excuse me, please enjoy yourselves."

Denton bowed his head again and left the pair standing on the street. Valwyn K'ntarr at least looked as surprised and shocked as Leia as he took a moment to watch the retreating form of his previous host. "Ah…," he said, as he turned around to face Leia. "I think what we call this is an ambush."

Leia laughed, relieved that he was at least wise to the game being played. It would make everything a whole lot easier. "Yes, I think that would be an appropriate word for it."

Valwyn looked back toward the building where the councilman had now disappeared and said, "Huh, and he was supposed to be buying." Leia chuckled and Valwyn turned back towards her, saying, "Nonetheless, there's no reason this has to be awkward, correct?"

Leia smiled. "Agreed."

"Although," he continued, stroking his chin playfully as he openly studied her. "You are just as beautiful as everyone said, so at least there is that."

"Well, thank you."

"Val," he supplied.

"Thank you, Val."

"And you poor thing are stuck looking at me," he said, holding his hand up and flagging down a hovercab. "I offer my apologies in advance."

Leia laughed. Truth-be-told Valwyn K'ntarr was not that bad to look at. He was tall and slender, not as muscular as Han but slim and toned and his features were clean and sharp. It wasn't difficult to tell that he had come from a long line of well-bred men. But from the way he was jesting she could tell that he knew as much and was quite proud of it.

The cab was stopped and the door opened automatically. Val held his arm out and let Leia scoot in first as he said, "And may I call you Leia?"

"Yes, of course," she replied as she slid into the seat and Val scooted in beside her. She gave the driver directions and the door slid shut as the cab began moving.

"Well, _Leia_," Val said, leaning into her a little as he dragged out her name. "It seems our respective _parents_ would like us to make some sort of coup out of our love lives, yes?"

She eyed him openly. It seemed as if Valwyn K'ntarr wasn't pulling any punches. She treaded lightly. "Yes, that is what it appears."

He sat back, placing his hands on the curve of his kneecaps. "I happen to prescribe to what I would consider to be the perfect mixture of traditional and new wave thinking."

She couldn't help it, she kind of liked the way he spoke and the way he handled himself. She smiled as she asked, "Which would be?"

He turned to her, looking her full on as he said seriously, "Marry for love and negotiate for all others."

She nodded, pleased at this statement. "I'm quite fond of negotiating."

"Negotiate it is," he agreed, whispering it as if it would be their little secret. And then squeezing his hands on his knees he sighed and added, "But I don't think there is any harm in us becoming friends, no?"

Leia looked over at him briefly. "No. No, there isn't."

The cab stopped at their destination and Val helped Leia out and onto the sidewalk. She pointed to a small café just a few yards away and he motioned for her to go ahead as he fell in step beside her.

"Now, I'm not as _politically_ minded as my brother," he started saying. "He would have already versed you on the wonders of the Royal House of Rydonni and our marvelous factories. He certainly would've pressed you by now to come for an extended visit to tour the lands we have available. And our history! He would find it unforgiveable that I haven't already regaled you with our prominent history as a family and a people. But, I know you know all of that. And I also know that Alderaanians never married as a negotiating tactic and…that you've made it clear that you aren't interested in obtaining our favor in that way." He halted and Leia stopped as well, looking up at him. "Still, my brother wouldn't have relented."

She didn't know what to say, didn't know what he wanted her to say seeing that he had said it all.

He just smiled while she looked at him and then he turned and abruptly pulled a small bloom from a flowering shrub that was lining the street. Turning back to Leia and offering the flower to her, he said, "You should be very thankful that they sent me in his stead."

She took the flower, staring at him in wonderment. Mostly she wondered if she could trust him, for all of this blustering could've been some elaborate plan on his part to set her mind at ease and then swoop in for the kill. But she didn't think so. For some reason, she trusted him. He was honest and forthcoming, something entirely lacking in her usual day-to-day dealings with her counterparts. And Alderaan did need that undeveloped land...desperately. Bringing the flower up to her nose, she smelled it and then replied, "I am."

* * *

_A/N: Okay, so who out there is worrying that Leia's love for Han will evaporate like so much fog or whatever, you know what I'm talking about. LOL Seriously, though. I'm not THAT cruel... Am I? (Cue the evil laugh and fade out)_


	24. Chapter 20

_**Motives**_

_"I can handle myself." ~Leia Organa_

Chapter 20 

_Coruscant, several days later_

Han stared at the blinking light of the communicator on his desk. His secretary had announced that it was President Orakzai calling. It seemed that every conversation he had with the man as of late started with 'I need you to' and ended with Han doing everything but the job he had been hired to do. He had not told Eliza about her mother's condition yet, so he felt he had to placate Orakzai in case the man would decide to use that omission against him. This frustrated Han on many levels. He felt as if he was so deep into this game now that he could no longer tell whose move it was.

Things between him and Leia had been…strange. She was still acting differently, ever since that night she spent with Eliza and for that matter, Eliza seemed a little off as well. But he had been too busy to analyze any of it. Literally, he was so slammed with meetings and proposals and dinners and holocalls that he hadn't been able to think about anything else save surviving. Leia had been helping him with that, too. Reviewing documents for him and offering her advice. Letting him bounce ideas off of her and hash out rebuttals. It was nice. He had seen her almost every day, although it was all above board and professional, it was at least something.

He let the holocall go unanswered, filing that in the back of his mind somewhere and knowing that he would pay for it some time later. Almost immediately, his intercom rang. Pressing the button, he didn't even give his secretary time to pass along Orakzai's message as he said, "I don't have time right now…" He searched for the right word and then settled on, "for anything."

"_I apologize. I..," _his secretary's voice hesitated over the comm before she continued, _"I'll take care of it."_

"Good," he responded without thinking. But then something nagged at him. It wasn't like his assistant to be anything but decisive and prompt. "Wait," he said. "What's the problem?"

"_You have a visitor."_

"A visitor?" Han was not expecting anyone and he didn't have time for anyone, either. And there was no way Orakzai had made it over to his office that quickly.

"_Yes," _she answered._ "Princess Leia is in the waiting room. Should I make your excuses?"_

When Han thought of his daily stress, when he thought of Orakzai potentially glaring at him through the office walls as he lurked outside in the waiting area, it was a localized kind of stress. It radiated up the back of his spinal column and wrapped its fingers around the frontal lobe of Han's brain. It gave him headaches and the occassional chest pain. "No," he replied quickly. But when he thought of seeing Leia, when he imagined her waiting for him outside of that door, when he thought of talking with her and sharing even the most innocent of moments together - it was a system-wide response. And it wasn't unpleasant. "Send her in."

* * *

"You look terrible," she said as she walked into his office and handed him a stack of datacards. "When's the last time you slept? Or ate?"

Han thumbed through the datacards, unfazed. "I thought that was my line?"

"Funny," she replied, taking a seat in one of his guest chairs across the desk from him. "It used to be."

He recognized the wistfulness in her tone. How sad was it that they both looked back at their years 'together' during the Rebellion with fondness, where she worked herself to death and he floated around directionless? He set the datacards down and leaned back in his chair. "You know, I used to think that you were crazy," he said.

"I remember."

Han watched her. She had walked in with a cheerful air but his comments had quickly grounded her. "I guess sometimes, there just ain't anyone else, is there?"

She folded her arms, a little look of triumph on her lips as she enjoyed the small comfort of finally being understood. "Nope."

He lifted his chin in the direction of the datacards she had delivered. "What'd'ya find?"

She sighed, shifting gears again. "Kalrun looks like a good choice for the cabinet position and that trade agreement for drive cores has a tiny hole in it that you might want to plug. It's all in the notes."

"And the rest?"

"Is fine," she said decisively. "I agree with your assessment. Just like the Kalrun thing."

Han looked down at the datacards, even with her feedback he still felt filled with doubt. Orakzai was trying to rebuild Corellia following the war and the massive death toll from the virus. The Empire's biological weapon hadn't discriminated, besides the loss of their people half of the government's official positions were vacant and Orakzai was relying more and more heavily on Han's assessment for their replacements.

Han had always been good at sizing people up, that wasn't the issue. But this was different. This wasn't for his own benefit or protection, this was on behalf of an entire people and sometimes whether Han liked a guy or not didn't really matter if the man was the right man for that particular job. Still, he couldn't stop the pressure rising within his chest and the overall feeling that he was in over his head. This was Leia's arena and he felt like an imposter playing around in it.

"Han," Leia spoke into his brooding silence. She didn't continue until he looked back at her fully. "You know what you're doing. You don't need me to tell you that."

He stared at her, taking her compliment and her encouragement for what it was. He sighed. "How've you been?"

"Busy," she replied. "I've recently taken on a pet project."

"What's that?"

"You." She smiled and he realized how much he had missed seeing that. How much he missed more than just innocent moments together with her. Then she continued, "Do you know how long it takes to go through all of those files?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do," he smiled back at her, gave her that look that used to be a fair warning signal to her that her back was about to become friendly with the nearest wall or flat surface and her knees would soon become distant neighbors. But then she shifted in her seat and he remembered…everything and the moment was gone, so he said, "Thank you."

"How's Eliza?"

Han welcomed the subject change but he hesitated before answering her. Sometimes he wondered just how much of all of this was taking its toll on her. He knew it was just as difficult for her, if not more, to sit here across from him with this invisible gulf seperating them in more ways than one. She was too good, too strong to let it show, especially to him. "Good."

"Have you told her yet?"

He wondered if there was an end to all of this for them. If after…everything, they would be able to move on. If she would still be waiting for him by then. He answered, "No."

"You'll have to soon."

He looked down at his desk, wondering how it was that they could just sit across the desk from each other and discuss this civilly now. He couldn't decide if that was a good or a bad thing. "I know," he replied. And he did. He knew he would have to tell Eliza at least before it was time for Sasha's next injection so that gave him a few more weeks. But he planned to do it soon. Every day he planned to tell her that night.

"Do you need help with that?" Leia asked.

"No," he said. "Apparently, I know what I'm doing."

Leia's cheeks turned pink, his comment causing her to blush for some reason and he thought of how it was the little things like that that he missed the most. The little noises she made when they were together, the way the curves on her body felt beneath his hands, the way the muscles in her stomach would quiver as he trailed kisses down her body, the way she tasted when-

"I was wondering," Leia stated, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yes?"

"Would it be possible…"

She stopped and Han had the word 'anything' poised in answer at the tip of his tongue, no matter what her request might be.

"Would it be alright if I spent some time with Eliza? Maybe lunch or dinner some time? She said she gets a little bored while you're away."

He waited a moment; it had not been what he had been expecting. Although he couldn't define that he had been expecting anything in particular at all, just not _that_. But her request was warming, he liked the idea of Leia getting to know his daughter. "That'd be great," he said. "Anytime, just let me know."

"Alright." Leia stood and they stared at each awkwardly for a moment. They were a little beyond shaking hands but neither of them knew exactly what was acceptable for a friendly departure any longer. A hug or a kiss seemed too much like tempting fate and a casual salute seemed silly. It made the entire act of saying goodbye a little uncomfortable. Leia, trooper that she was, muscled her way through it with an odd mixture of a tilt of her head and a nod as she turned around to leave, saying, "Well, I should go."

"Hey," he said, pushing himself away from his desk and standing.

She stopped and turned around to look at him.

"That's my line, too."

Leia didn't reply and Han immediately regretted the glib comment as it drew attention to the not-so-pleasant memories of their past meetings and their abrupt endings. Walking over to her, he said, "Why don't you have dinner with me _and_ Eliza?"

"In public?" She asked, clearly disapproving of the idea. "On Coruscant? No, thank you. I don't think that's a very good idea."

He concentrated on her eyes, on the silky brown color and on how big her pupils were as she stared at him. "Then in private."

"At your place or mine? Also, no good." She paused a moment, seeming to read and translate his irritated expression. "You're an up-and-comer now, Han. People will be watching you. And no matter how you spin it to yourself…you're married and you have to act accordingly."

"Plenty of married men have dinner with female…counterparts."

She shook her head. "No. We have a history. They would tear you apart over it. Think of Eliza if it helps you any. They would run her down on the street to ask her questions about it. I know you don't want that."

He trailed the backs of his knuckles down the length of her arm, studying the fabric of her shirt but envisioning the skin that lived beneath it. When he got to her fingers he hefted their weight up with the backs of his fingers, stared at them lying there against his skin. "And they'd do the same to you."

Leia took her hand back. "I can handle myself."

He looked back to her face. "You handle enough already."

Their tones had dropped and now they were standing there staring at each other and the situation had moved from awkward to dangerous. At times like these he would think of just grabbing her by the arm and dragging her away with him. It didn't matter where to or how. His thoughts on the matter never got further than just him and her somewhere else and with very little cares or clothing.

Leia shook her head at him. "Like I said, I should go."

And then she did. And he didn't stop her.


	25. Chapter 21

**_Motives_**

_"They all do." ~Leia Organa_

Chapter 21 

_Coruscant, a few days later_

"The Empire wasn't our only customer," Val K'ntarr was saying. "But they did account for a large majority of our business."

Leia sat at the small table in her office across from him, looking down at the various charts and graphs that outlined Rydonni's production and finances. The Rydonni production facilities had been nearly the sole source of exhaust manifolds, various dampeners and drive cores for the Imperial fleet. The deal had been forced upon them by the Empire and it had been no secret that they were a reluctant partner at best. But they were at a very fragile time for their government and people now. Reluctant or not, the Imperial deal had been a lucrative one and the Rydonni worlds had flourished under Imperial control. Since the hostile takeover of the Rebels, however, Rydonni's national commerce had been in a tailspin, saved only by the deep pockets of the K'ntarr and other royal families.

"So now your factories are practically sitting idle and your people are nervous."

"Yes," Val answered quietly. "Of course everyone wants to get back to work, but they don't want to be taken advantage of. Rydonni feels like the injured soldier lying on the battlefield with the buzzards hovering above."

"And the Rebels looming as the biggest buzzard of all."

"I would be lying if I said that an alliance with Mon Mothma and her crew was the last thing that we wanted. For me? I know. But for the people as a whole, they feel as if they will be treated as ex-Imperials. They are tired of big government standing on their backs. The New Republic or the Empire, they see no difference. Not yet."

"And so your alliance with me?"

"You're not seen as a threat," he said. "A player but not major one, no offense. And Alderaan, although once a founding father of the Rebellion, is now…"

"Not much of a threat, either."

"Yes, sorry. Again, no offense."

"No, don't apologize," she sighed. She was long since past blaming offhand comments for the hollow feeling she got in her chest when she thought of what was left of Alderaan. "Your honesty is one of the things I like most about you."

Val let his eyes linger on her for a long time as he smiled and said, "Noted."

Leia looked away. They had met a few times over the last few days and the more she worked with him the more his easy camaraderie was edging ever so closely to outright flirting. He had been playing it clean with her from the beginning and she didn't expect for that to change now, but that didn't mean things couldn't develop and she had to be careful not to mislead him. She still, for whatever it was worth, felt as though she belonged to someone else. Even if that someone else belonged to someone else as well.

"Well, since it looks like I've already made you uncomfortable, I guess now would be a good time to ask an inappropriate favor from you," he said.

Had she just told him that she liked his honesty? Sometimes she missed the simple art of deflecting innuendos and countering half-truths. She braced herself for what might be coming. "As in?" She asked.

"I have been providing updates to my brother, who in turn has been updating our council. However, I was sent here for…a specific task, as you are well aware of and, well to be brutally honest, they are wanting some proof that we are in fact…negotiating."

Leia frowned and lifted one eyebrow. "What kind of proof?"

"Please," he said, holding his hands up. "Nothing so sinister as to warrant that look you are giving me right now. Just…_dinner_, perhaps? Somewhere very visible and I'll take care of the rest."

"As in reporters and taglines?"

"Reporters, yes," he said. "But I can't pretend that I would have any control over the nature of their stories."

Leia scoffed. "I know how this game works better than you think. You've played it straight with me so far; don't stop now just when you need something from me."

"I did not plan to do anything more than to contact a few networks and let them know where we would be and when. As for needing something from you, I don't really see this as a huge imposition. I had only asked to remain open with you. It is, after all, just a dinner."

"It's my reputation."

"For sharing a meal with a man? I think your reputation can handle that kind of speculation."

There really was no harm in his request. The only thought that was weighing heavily upon her was whether or not she should tell Han about it and how he would react. Hadn't they just had a similar conversation regarding dining together? Then she remembered how that conversation had gone. He was married. She was not and dinner was a perfectly harmless affair. "I'll make the contact," she said. "I have a few friends on some of the major networks and I'll make sure the story goes out the way I want it to. Ensuring, of course, that its wording is ambiguous enough that your brother and his cronies will be sufficiently pacified."

Val let out breath, looking very much relieved. "Thank you."

"Just send me a place and time. And for future reference," she said. "Never, _ever_ leave the media with an open slate. Even your words twisted around a little is better than what they could come up with on their own."

Val smiled and nodded, saying again. "Noted."

Leia began to pick up the items that had been scattered across the table. Their meeting time was over and she had lunch plans with Eliza. "As far as your contract goes," she said, getting back to real business. "I know we're backlogged on fleet repairs, so I'll get with the head of requisitions and see if I can get you moved up on the approved supplier list. Maybe get a few more of your lines up and running at least."

"That would be a great start," Val said, standing and preparing to depart.

As was his custom, he held his hand out waiting for Leia to offer hers so that he could draw it to his lips and kiss her goodbye. This wasn't a greeting she was unfamiliar with and it hadn't been an issue until recently when things had started to shift between them. She didn't know if it was her imagination or not, but his lips seemed to linger a lot longer than they had previously. Regardless, she offered him her hand and he pulled it to him and pressed his lips against her knuckles.

It was brief and as Leia was drawing her hand back, she was chastising herself a little bit for reading too much into everything. And that was when her office door opened and in walked her lunch date.

"Hey, nobody's outside and I've been waiting for like-" Eliza's sentence cutoff midstream as her eyes went from Leia's hand, still in the act of disconnecting from Val's fingers and lips, to Val's face and then back. "Oh," she said. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Leia replied, wiping her hand against her thigh. "We were just finishing up here."

Val and Eliza exchanged looks from across the room. Good manners dictated that Leia should introduce the two, but she shuffled through a million excuses not to. There was no real good reason for her actions. They hadn't been doing anything. She didn't want to think about why she was feeling guilty. After a few short moments, her manners finally won out. "Eliza, this is Valwyn K'ntarr of Rydonni," she said. "Val, this is Eliza Orakzai."

Val walked over to Eliza and treated her to his customary greeting. "As in President Orakzai of Corellia?" He asked.

Val had held onto her hand while he asked the question and Eliza made a deliberate effort to remove it from his possession as she replied, "One in the same."

Leia was impressed with the way that Eliza held her own, even if she was being rude to Valwyn through some misplaced protectiveness for her married father. Leia didn't even have time to process all the implications of that sentence.

Valwyn's eyes left Eliza and flitted across the room toward Leia. "Interesting," he said but did not comment any further. Dipping his head to the two women and offering his final goodbyes as he departed.

"Who is he?" Eliza asked as soon as Valwyn had disappeared through the door.

Not for the first time, Leia was baffled as to how this child was _not_ Han's the way that she resembled him in some of the things she said and did. "I thought I just introduced you."

"I mean, who is he to you?"

Leia was preparing a flippant remark but refrained. "He's an associate," she said as she walked over to her desk and grabbed her purse. "We're brokering a contract. His world needs connections and my people need land. I have connections and he has land. It's as simple as that."

"He wasn't looking at you like he was worried about any _connections_."

"What...," Leia started but didn't know exactly how to finish it. She wanted to ask Eliza what she knew about how Val had been looking at her, nevermind that her instincts were spot on.

"He wants something from you," Eliza said, her voice stern and full of warning.

Leia drew in a deep breath and then let it out. "Eliza, honey," she said, wrapping her arm around her as they began to walk out of her office. "They all do."

* * *

Leia had set a good portion of her afternoon aside to have lunch with Eliza. The pair had finished eating and was now sitting at the cleared table and drinking tea. Leia had succeeded in steering the conversation away from Valwyn finally and they were just getting around to talking about Eliza's confession and how they needed to tell Han.

Over several holocalls in the past few days, Eliza had been heavily recruiting Leia to tell Han for her and cushion the blow for the young girl. Leia had entertained the notion for the better part of the week, only just recently changing her mind about it. She had been waiting for the right time to speak to Eliza about it. As the girl asked Leia if she had told Han yet, she figured now was a good a time as any.

"Yeah, I've been thinking about that," Leia said, staring down into her cup of tea.

"And?"

Leia looked over to the girl. "I think you should tell him yourself." Eliza's mouth worked open and shut a few times, but no words came out. "Trust me," Leia continued. "With things like this, it's best if he would hear it directly from you."

Eliza made a face. One of panic and dread that made her look younger than her fourteen years. "But I'm afraid," she confessed.

"As you well should be," Leia answered.

She wanted to help Eliza, wanted to encourage and guide her but she also didn't want to let her off the hook too easily. She had to regret what she had done. Leia wanted her to learn from this mistake. It would be an all-too easy path for Eliza to fall down, this scheming and manipulation that came so easy to her. She had to know that there were consequences and Leia wasn't entirely convinced that Han would hold her feet to the fire at all over this, so she did. But not for too long.

As Eliza squirmed uncomfortably and readied herself to say something, Leia reached out across the table and placed her hand on top of Eliza's giving it a squeeze as she said, 'But he loves you. You know that. And he'll forgive you. _I_ know that."

"Maybe you're right," Eliza replied, looking a little sick and not at all totally convinced.

Leia smiled. She was happy with herself, not at causing Eliza distress but for making her think about her actions and to deal with them. The young girl had probably not had much guidance when it came to her upbringing and her morals. Leia thought about her own mother and father and the endless conversations they had shared. When she was young, she had dreamed of being just like her mother one day, so wise and patient, doling her wisdom out on her many lucky children. She sat back and took a sip of her tea. In reality being a parent, even an ad hoc one, was not as romantic as it had seemed back then. But wasn't that the way with everything?


End file.
